In Your Dreams
by winterhorses
Summary: On hiatus. One mistake gives Edward the power to put anyone to sleep and search their memories, but there's a drawback: he must also sleep. When a conspiracy threatens to destroy the tenuous peace between vampire and humans, the Cullens must figure out how to get information from vampire-hater Isabella Swan. How will they uncover her secrets when she thwarts Edward at every turn?
1. Chapter 1 - Chief Magistrate

**Welcome to my very first Vampward story!**

 **I'd like to jump right in, but first, a mild warning.**

 ****The opening is as bad as it's going to get, but there are a few darker sections throughout: some violence, a suggestion of sexual assault. However, I don't consider any of the descriptions to be overly graphic, and as always, feel free to PM me for more information. ****

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 **Chapter 1 - Chief Magistrate**

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"You're dead."

Edward had never experienced a scene like this with such clarity. Pinging drops of water from a leaky faucet, the heavy oppressiveness of humid air, the acrid stench from a maggot-infested carcass—each detail was cataloged and savored as part of the whole. And of course there was, as always, the metallic tang of warm blood on his tongue.

The girl who lay before him was older than he preferred, but it couldn't be helped. It had been weeks since his last kill, and the hunger in him was far too strong. He had capitalized on the first opportunity that presented itself. Although the bloom of youth was fading from her body, she would suffice for his purposes.

At least, she _would have,_ had she not somehow gotten one foot out of her binding. He hated when they struggled. Excess movement usually led to spatter, and blood stains on clothing were damned stubborn, especially if left to dry. He didn't have unlimited funds, and so, considering the amount of killing he did, cleanliness was crucial to maintaining a functional wardrobe.

But the girl had to be difficult, trying to escape and whatnot, and thus ruined everything. He had no desire to wrestle with her flailing leg, especially since she'd broken the skin on her ankle in several places when she'd worked it loose.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, he picked up the scalpel from the table and moved toward her arm. It wasn't in his nature to be wasteful, but this girl was no longer useful to him. The next one would be, he promised himself, drawing the blade over easily parted skin. He'd be more careful with the next one and make sure to do everything right—including tying the damn knots tight enough.

Next time, the hunger would be satisfied, if only for a little while.

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

"Five second countdown. Watch his left hand: he's going to wake up swinging."

A twitch of Jasper's eyebrow was the only sign of acknowledgement he gave. Alice put a gentle hand on Edward's shoulder and crouched down next to his ear.

"Hey, Edward, it's me—Alice," she said as he began to stir. "Jasper's here, too. We're going to hold you down, but it's only so you don't hurt yourself or anyone else, okay?"

Wild amber eyes swept their gaze around the room as they fluttered opened. Muscles bunched and gathered under Alice's touch, but Jasper was ready. He grabbed the rising fist and pushed it down against the dirt floor.

"Not too much pressure," Alice warned. "This one took a lot out of him."

Jasper could tell how true it was by the minimal force required to keep his friend restrained. Vogel must have had a hideously brutal mind. Speaking of whom…

"Kate, how's Vogel doing?"

"Fine, by the looks of it," she said, her disgust evident, even through the reinforced titanium alloy walls. "His dick is trying to jump out of his pants."

"Left leg," Alice murmured, more out of habit than need.

Edward's movements were hardly faster than a human's when he first awoke. Jasper's arm was in place to deflect the half-hearted kick before it began its arc. Even a lazy kick from a vampire could sting if one wasn't prepared for it.

"A-alice?"

At the sound of her name, she drew a hand across Edward's brow and then smoothed back his disheveled hair as best she could. "I'm here, honey. Everything's fine. You're in the Interrogation Room with Jasper and me…and you're _not_ Ethan Vogel."

Edward stopped thrashing and focused on his friend's face. Confusion, worry, and pain swirled in his eyes as he fought to regain his identity.

"The girl…dark blond hair…tall, early twenties…I'm going to… _oh_ _no_ …"

"Her name was Amanda Fisher," Alice murmured. "She…she went quickly, Edward. She—"

"Stop!" he croaked out, his expression contorting in anguish. "I…I know. Fuck!" With a sharp twist of his body, he wrenched free from Jasper's grip and leapt to his feet. His tall form swayed unsteadily on trembling legs.

Jasper crouched in preparation to act, but a sad sigh from Alice kept him in place. He straightened up slowly, relaxing his muscles but not his constant vigilance.

Never that.

"Are we good?" came Kate's quiet voice from the adjoining room.

"Yes, it's over."

"That's a relief. Garrett and I are going to make a stop at the Canteen before the meeting. See you in a half hour?"

Alice closed her eyes and concentrated, faint creases marring her alabaster brow. "I think he's going to need a little more time than that. Let's make it a full hour."

"It won't be that long," Edward said through gritted teeth. "I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"No, you won't." Her firm tone left no room for argument. "One doesn't have to see the future to know that. You're weak and need to rest."

If anyone else had talked to him in that manner, he would have argued, or possibly even made a futile attempt to attack. But Edward couldn't push back at Alice—not after what he had done to her. The span of his immortal life wasn't long enough to forgive himself for that.

Jasper grunted as waves of guilt rolled over him. Edward, in turn, felt the effort his friend had to make to keep the emotion at bay. Then he witnessed his own future apology in Alice's visions a split-second before he opened his mouth to issue it.

Edward pressed a hand to his pounding forehead. His mind felt if it were being pummeled from all sides by colliding echoes of himself. During recovery periods, it was particularly difficult for him to be in the presence of vampires with abilities such as theirs, but the situation couldn't be helped. He was one of the highest ranking individuals in the Vampire Populace—subordinate only to Carlisle—and his value as a political target compelled a constant security detail. Jasper, Alice, and Kate were obvious choices; Garrett had a position on the team because of his bond with Kate.

"Are you ready to go?"

At his curt nod, Alice took Edward's elbow and helped him to the elevator door located on the back wall. As much as he hating using the thing, it was preferable to being carried up the stairs. Everyone who resided at the Cullen Compound knew about his special condition, but he had no desire to put his disability on display.

 _How about mountain lion today? I'll use the male._

As the elevator doors closed, a faint smile touched Edward's lips at Jasper's offer. He'd feel much better after having a feed. Granted, it would be preferable to tap the source directly, but if Edward could not go to the mountain lion, the mountain lion must come to Edward…in a blood collection bag.

How pathetic.

A growl escaped his throat before he could muffle it. Alice glanced up, and Edward saw her asking him what was wrong.

"Nothing much," he muttered. "Just enjoying another day in the life of the world's weakest vampire."

 _Edward_ …

"You asked, I answered truthfully."

 _Keep in mind that you're also one of the strongest. Your ability makes the one Jane had look like a parlor trick._

"Are we honestly having this conversation again? I can recall with perfect clarity the 16 other times you've made that comparison."

 _Have you made peace with the past yet? Let go of your guilt and accepted that what happened wasn't your fault? I'll keep talking about it until my words get through that abnormally thick skull of yours._

Edward gnashed his teeth together to keep from replying. There was no point in it: Alice was just as stubborn as she proclaimed him to be.

The faint ding signaling their arrival was a welcome interruption. The elevator doors opened to a small vestibule featuring a large painting of a flowering meadow and two heavy wooden doors. Edward staggered to the one on the left.

A sense of peace pervaded his being as he passed the threshold to his room. The space was his like no other had been. Before the Great War, his family had moved every few years, disallowing the feeling of stability and permanence that now brought him such comfort. This room was his sanctuary: a haven where he could relax, recharge, and—most importantly—rediscover himself after the grueling ordeal of violating someone's thoughts and memories.

As much as he hated to admit it, Edward needed a period of rest after an interrogation session. It was the only thing keeping him sane, especially when the minds he entered were so… _vile_.

Alice stretched out a hand to help him onto the bed, but he shook her off, instead falling onto the mattress with a groan of relief. It was embarrassing that he found his pillowy bedding so damned satisfying, but it wasn't like he could have kept his reaction secret to Alice, anyway.

His eyelids felt heavy as he wrapped himself in the down comforter. Alice picked up a remote and powered on his sound system. Soft swells of Monteverdi's _Ecco mormorar l'onde_ soon washed over him and soothed his soul; he did indeed hear with murmuring of the waves within the flowing musical lines.

But as he eased into sleep, as his fragile mental barriers tumbled, more than just music made its way inside his head.

 _...was the worst one yet. It's just too much. Maybe I have no choice but to play dirty and take advantage of his guilt…_

 _...time to rotate the bears. This one's not even bothering to struggle. Talk about boring..._

 _…South American forces are spread too thin. I must speak with Carlisle again about raising our numbers. Surely he will understand that it's the soundest strategy…_

 _...will be nice to see Sydney again. She's quite a lovely lady. I'll have Angela select a nice cabernet from the cellar…_

 _...I wonder if they'll give me one last meal…too bad that dark-haired girl's a vamp…oh yeah, she would've been perfect…those big eyes full of fear as I shove my dick inside her…the tiny ones are always so tight, so fragile…the better to break…to fuck…to torture...and kill and fuck again…_

"No!" Edward shouted, lurching up from his prone position. He would have fallen out of bed if Jasper's hand hadn't steadied him in place. "Alice…where is she? I have to…I mean, he wants to… _argh_!"

His hands scrubbed over his face and then traveled up to his unruly bronze hair.

"Alice is fine—went to check the news feed before the meeting," Jasper said, puzzled. "What's going on?"

Edward took in long, useless breaths of air that somehow made him feel more calm. "Sorry, it was…nothing. Just a bad dream."

His friend nodded wryly, knowing that Edward couldn't dream and, if anything, whatever he had experienced was more akin to a nightmare.

"Well, here, have a pick-me-up. Straight from the very angry cat. I might have to pick that one for myself next time. He smelled good."

Edward didn't comment, instead reaching for the blood-filled bag to drain it in seconds. Jasper had brought a heated tote with him, so the temperature was a perfect 101 degrees. Edward also appreciated the subtle aftertaste of adrenaline. If he couldn't drink directly from the animal, then surely, this was the next best thing.

Of course, his throat still burned. The ache was less intense after the small feeding, but the hunger remained. He shook his head and tried to ignore it. Thinking about the pain only made it worse.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with having a few pints of the good stuff every so often," Jasper said, correctly interpreting Edward's dissatisfied expression. "Not that you'd even need a reason, but human blood would help you recover much faster. In fact, if you fed right before a session, I'd wager you wouldn't be affected as badly."

"Really, Jasper?" Edward gave him an incredulous look. "Can you imagine the shitstorm that would rain down on us if _I_ was seen with red eyes? Things are tense enough as it is."

"I think you'd be surprised. It's a slow process, but overall public opinion of us is improving. Do you know how much mail you get from fangirls—and boys—offering up their own blood? Hell, we've even had actual deliveries of it."

"That may be, but my job isn't to keep them happy. I can't sit at the World Peace Summit and have the other leaders questioning whether I snacked on one of their constituents during the coffee break."

"Fine, fine," Jasper said, raising a hand in acquiescence. "You know it was just a suggestion. I'd be lax in my duties as Security Director if I didn't consider all possibilities."

Edward hummed in agreement. Jasper never shied away from exploring every option, even those that were not politically correct. It was one of the reasons he excelled in his position. But Edward always had to keep the larger picture in mind. That was _his_ duty, and despite his need for rest, the responsibility never went away.

Jasper watched but didn't intervene as Edward carefully stood from the bed and then walked to his desk. With all the dignity he could muster, Edward lowered himself in the chair and turned on his computer.

"I'm almost fully recovered now," he said stiffly. "You may leave."

Though the formal tone of his words didn't reflect the brotherly bond they shared, Jasper took no offense. If he were in Edward's place, he could not be half so pleasant. With a slight yet respectful bow at the waist, the Security Director took his leave and disappeared from the room.

Thirty seconds—half a minute—was all Edward allowed for himself to buckle under the weight of his anguished suffering. Silent, heaving sobs wracked his body as he grieved for 27 young women whose lives were ended in the worst way by the sadistic hands of a serial killer.

When the allotted time was up, he gathered those memories, threw them in a cage, and hid them in a dark corner of his mind. He knew he would have to dredge them up soon when he presented his report to the Judicial Committee. For now, however, he must suppress and move forward.

There was always more work to be done. The inbox of his official account had amassed a large number of new messages during the interrogation session, and a few required immediate attention. Straining his vampire abilities of speed and concentration to the maximum, Edward composed replies, assigned tasks to his small staff, and made a mental list of issues that required further consideration.

Barely a dent had been made in his workload when a quietly-directed thought requested his attendance at the daily staff meeting. After firing off one last email, he grabbed his laptop from the table and whisked a suit jacket out of the closet. He hadn't thought to change his wrinkled clothes, but at least the jacket would hide the worst of it.

Waiting outside Edward's door, Brady Coleman gave a perfunctory smile before launching into a mental rundown of pertinent current events. The brown-haired man who was now Edward's secretary and personal assistant had been a 35-year-old accountant prior to his change during the Great War. He was one of the few surviving newborns who chose to enter public service instead of exploring the extent of his vampire potential. Soft-spoken and unassuming, Brady enjoyed creating order out of chaos, as long he didn't have to be in the spotlight to do so.

Edward hadn't met the man until after peace had been declared, but he'd appreciated the structured restraint of his thoughts. Brady viewed the world in a very logical and literal way, and Edward found this perspective to have a calming influence on his own frequently overwhelmed mind.

The two vampires walked through the palatial manor house in silence. Both wore neutral expressions on their faces, despite the fact the one was receiving a great download of information from the other. Brady concluded his brief just as they arrived outside the ornate wooden doors to the library.

Jasper was there to greet them. After lowering his head in respect, he murmured into a tiny mouthpiece and pulled open the door to admit them. Edward returned the nod, secure in the knowledge that Cullen Compound was under his diligent protection.

The occupants in the room were already standing when Edward entered. He gestured for them to sit and took his own chair at one end of the table. Though he considered them all family, the staff insisted on maintaining deferential decorum, especially during events pertaining to matters of state.

It had been over four years since the Vampire Populace had voted on the formation of a Cullen-led oligarchy…four years since he'd been given the titles of Chief Magistrate and Vice Chancellor, first in the line of succession to Chancellor Carlisle Cullen. Edward was still trying to acclimate to the consequence and prestige of his role. To make the undertaking more difficult, the global media had quickly dubbed him "Prince Edward" as an easier way to explain to the masses his position within the vampire government hierarchy. The unofficial honorific became popular and often supplanted his true designations. Much to his chagrin, it had even been printed on his placard at the last World Peace Summit.

He tried to downplay his superior rank with his family and friends as much as he could, though he knew beyond doubt that they did not begrudge his selection. They considered it his birthright as the eldest "son" of Carlisle. And other than Emmett, who liked to make a big production out of bowing and scraping as often as he could, no one treated Edward much differently than they had before the Great War changed everything.

 _He's on his way._

Edward straightened automatically in his chair at Angela's mental notification. The others took their cue from him and listened for approaching footsteps. In true vampire fashion, they froze in place—no one moving, not even to breathe.

Despite the figurative and literal lack of life in the room, Edward felt revived. Every mind was calm and focused on the upcoming meeting, each individual was ready to fulfill his or her duties. All were confident in the coherency of the group and had utmost faith in its leader, who was now approaching Jasper at the library entrance.

In nearly perfect synchrony, the staff rose out of their chairs and turned toward the doors. The slabs of wood parted rather slowly, in ceremonial fashion, and Carlisle Cullen, the leader of the Vampire Populace, entered the room.

As had become custom, Edward opened his mouth, ready to issue a greeting on behalf of the assembled group. Before he could speak, however—before the air began moving out of his lungs, the briefest glimpse of an impossible scene flashed through his mind. He hesitated, but then recovered so quickly that only one person noticed his pause, and that was because her eyes had darted to his face in horror.

"Good afternoon, sir. Everyone is present and ready to begin at your convenience."

Edward barely registered Carlisle's invitation to be seated. He stared across the mahogany table and held Alice's gaze, probing her thoughts to see if she could make more sense of the vision than he could. It was a fruitless endeavor: although her shock had worn off, it had been replaced by worry and fear.

He struggled and failed not to let the same emotions take hold of him, but not without justifiable cause.

If Alice's premonition was correct, he would soon find himself writhing on the ground, helpless and in unimaginable pain.

And standing over him, laughing cruelly at his agony, would be the small form of young human woman.


	2. Chapter 2 - Matters of State

**Chapter 2 - Matters of State**

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Chancellor Carlisle Cullen was a very busy man. He had numerous responsibilities as the leader of all vampires, especially given that the Populace was spread out over the globe. On many occasions, he wished to have more people on his staff, but that didn't mean he agreed with Jasper's suggestion.

"You know it's against the terms of the Treaty to create new vampires without establishing just cause. In my view, our current situation doesn't warrant such an action, and I can guarantee Secretary-General Madaki will feel the same way."

"It's not our current situation that I'm worried about," Jasper said, curling his hand into a tight fist. "All it takes is one disgruntled vampire to create another army of newborns, and then we have the Great War all over again."

"Oh, please," Rosalie said with a roll of her eyes. "Stop being so damned dramatic. A single vampire wouldn't be able to start another war. It took Caius, Jane, Alec, and how many others to form an army strong enough to fight us, and they still ended up losing. We can handle whatever issues come up without raising our numbers."

"Maybe, but at what cost?" Jasper clasped Alice's hand with a pained expression on his features. "More injuries? More loss?" His eyes hardened and shifted to Carlisle. "You're already responsible for _her_ destruction. Do you want the same fate for us?"

A collective growl rumbled through the air, but it was Angela who sprang from her seat with her arms reaching for Jasper's throat. Alice, having seen the attack a split second before, was the one to intercept the leaping vampire, and Edward was right behind her.

Jasper snarled as he prepared to counterattack, but a stinging hand from Kate dropped him in in his tracks.

"Enough!"

Carlisle's voice was not overly loud, but the irrefutable authority in his command compelled everyone freeze in place.

"Return to your seats so that we can continue."

He fixed serious golden eyes on Angela that expressed his disappointment without the necessity of words. Her shoulders drooped, but she didn't hide her censure when she looked at Jasper.

"I'm sorry that I reacted so strongly, _sir_ ," she muttered to the Security Director. "But I won't put up with disrespect to the Chancellor."

The two vampires stared each other down for a long moment. Despite the considerable differences in age and experience, Angela did not wilt under Jasper's powerful glare. Finally, his head twitched downward ever so slightly and he turned to address the table.

"My apologies to you, sir, and to the rest of the staff." After Carlisle nodded his pardon, he continued. "That aside, I still believe we need to reevaluate the strength of our defensive forces. Unless we institute a draft or recruit enough volunteers for a standing militia, I don't see how…"

Edward dedicated a significant amount of his attention to Jasper's arguments. Part of his mind, however, contemplated Carlisle's dark-haired secretary. One of the many casualties of the Battle of Forks, Angela Webber was a young vampire, having spent just less than five years as an immortal. Although she and Edward shared the same physical age of 17, he was far past that volatile first decade when new vampires were getting used to their new life. Even level-headed Brady still had occasional fits of anger or depression.

But Angela's reaction to Jasper's insolence was more than just typical youthful behavior, Edward knew. The girl held Carlisle in high regard and even felt a physical attraction toward him. Her overall quiet, yet fiercely loyal personality served well to outwardly disguise her true interest, but a mind-reader had no problem seeing past that.

Edward hadn't said anything to either Angela or Carlisle, nor would he—unless her feelings became a problem. He didn't enjoy having a direct line to others' private thoughts and would certainly never exploit them without reason. However, his primary duty was to the Vampire Populace, and he would not shy away from fulfilling that, no matter how uncomfortable he might be.

Carlisle, for his part, had no idea that Angela felt a special affection for him. He was fond of her and especially grateful for her superior organizational skills. He was even beginning to care for her in the same way he loved all his "children." But he didn't have a romantic interest in her—he couldn't. He was far too broken for that.

"…agree. To summarize, Jasper will work with Liam to create a detailed security assessment. Alice's team will prepare a PR package and gauge public opinion on the creation of new vampires—if and _only if_ increased threat warrants it." Carlisle calmly folded his hands in front of him. "I'll begin greasing the skids with the Assembly for the possibility of new legislature. Angela, schedule a meeting with President Marshall for end of this week. He'll need to be on our side before proceeding any further."

"It may have to be next week," she responded. "President Marshall leaves for Germany on Wednesday, and you won't return from Forks until the following day."

An unnatural silence fell over the already quiet library at the mention of the Cullens' previous town of residency. In two days, Carlisle would return there to commemorate the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Forks, the "surprise" attack that marked the beginning of the Great War. Everyone in the room, excepting Brady, had been present that fateful day.

With an anguished groan, Edward dropped his head into hands, attempting too late to shield himself from the salvo of painful memories he saw in the minds of the others. His own were terrible enough, but when added to the collective…he could hardly bear it.

"That concludes our meeting today, everyone," Carlisle announced, seeing Edward's—and Jasper's—struggle to handle the overflow of emotion. "As always, thank you for your diligent work."

He rose to his feet, and the rest of the vampires followed. As he took a step away from the table, the atmosphere in the room lightened. Edward and Jasper exchanged relieved glances when their burdens eased.

A number of conversations broke out as the eight staff members in the room conducted business on a smaller scale. Kate touched base with Jasper and then left to track down Garrett. Rosalie, the head of Carlisle's personal security team, cleared up some last minute details with Angela about the Chancellor's trip to Forks. Alice and Brady were engaged in a discussion about a scheduled videoconference call with their European counterparts.

 _Edward, do you have a few minutes?_

The Vice Chancellor looked to his superior and nodded. He would always make time for Carlisle.

 _Come for a walk with me._

The two men exited the library and began their descent down a narrow staircase. Jasper murmured into the microphone on his headset and followed at a respectable distance behind them. Upon reaching the ground floor, he departed their company for the surveillance room. He would keep watch over them from there.

The sky was a brilliant blue, and the highly manicured lawn around the manor house displayed a vibrant green shade. Bird song and insect sounds filled the air as the creatures made the most of the pleasant June weather. The vampires' ears could also pick up the noises of Canteen animals moving about in their spacious enclosures.

The Cullen Compound was situated within what used to be the Patuxent Research Refuge before the Great War. This 12,800 acre wildlife preserve, located 20 miles outside of Washington, D.C., had been established by Franklin Roosevelt but was now designated as sovereign territory of the Vampire Populace. Those twenty square miles, as well as the 97 square miles of Volterra in Tuscany, Italy, were the only regions of the world over which vampires claimed sole jurisdiction. There was Isle Esme off the coast of Brazil, acquired as a provision in the Treaty of Volterra, but it belonged only to the Cullen family.

Although Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper took yearly vacations to the island, Carlisle and Edward had only returned once since peace was declared. Edward didn't have a reason, and Carlisle didn't have the desire.

Carlisle's thoughts flitted to the island for the briefest of moments and then considered other destinations as he walked alongside Edward through the gardens. His eldest son was due for a break, and he wanted to be prepared with a list of options when Edward protested, as the young man was sure to do. But first, he needed to address one of the significant causes of Edward's heightened stress.

Carlisle glanced out of the corner of his eye and pulled in a quick breath of air, even though he didn't intend to speak out loud.

 _Alice approached me today before the meeting. She's concerned about you._

Edward's gaze remained forward. He only grunted his acknowledgement.

 _She said that while Vogel's interrogation was successful, it wasn't worth the suffering you endured_. _I think it's time we reexamine—_

"No," Edward interrupted, his tone curt. "The program can't be scaled back any further. The backlog in the U.S. was just cleared, but there are three more North American detainees awaiting interrogation dates and five from South America. Even the current schedule of one per week won't be sufficient if the incarceration rate stays about the same. There are just too many depraved people on this planet."

Carlisle held back a heavy sigh. _Yes, but you're not responsible for bringing them all to justice. Edward, you can't keep going like this forever_.

"Actually, I can…vampire, remember?" His tone was scathingly bitter.

 _Maybe your body can heal itself, but your mind is a different situation. You're subjecting yourself to mental torture, and it will wear you down over time. There's no reason for you to—_

"The woman is reason enough. And Alice…"

"You need to let go of this, Edward!" Carlisle's frustration caused him to speak aloud. "What happened with Alice was not your fault, and the woman…it was a slip of control in the worst of conditions. The vast amount of flowing blood was a temptation to everyone, and you were caught off-guard by the scent of your singer. I can't imagine any vampire would be able to resist that."

Edward stopped in front of a stone fountain and stared at the pool of water in the basin. "Maybe, maybe not," he said quietly. "Regardless, my feelings won't change. It's useless to try, and I wish you wouldn't. I don't—"

He stopped his sentence short, but Carlisle didn't realize, thinking the younger vampire was finished speaking.

 _I have to keep trying because I care about you—we all do. And it is for this reason that I've made a decision. When I return from the memorial ceremony, you will take at least a week of vacation time. Brady will confer with Angela to clear your schedule. Also, I'm going to have the three North American detainees transferred to Volterra. Aro and Maggie can conduct the interrogations. I won't entertain any argument on the subject._

Edward's shoulders slumped in defeat, but he nodded. Carlisle was about to suggest they go for a run to take their minds off work when he registered a faint rustling noise. His mouth turned up in a grin as the sound grew louder and more distinct. He turned his head toward the tree line, watching in amusement as a large, sand-colored wolf burst through the underbrush and skidded to a halt on the lawn. His sides heaving and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, the animal blinked at Edward in silent conversation.

"Yeah, right. Keep on dreaming, pup," Edward said with a laugh. He turned to Carlisle. "Apparently, Seth thinks he's gotten faster since last week. Would you excuse me please while I take him down?"

"Go to it." Carlisle was thrilled to see a rare smile on his son's face. Of course, if anyone could make that happen, it would be Seth Clearwater. The teen's easy-going personality and infectious enthusiasm never failed to brighten the mood of those around him. He even managed to bring out the youthfulness in Edward. The unlikely pair had formed a close bond when they saved each other's lives during the Battle of Forks.

Carlisle was deeply thankful that Seth, his older sister Leah, and a young Quileute named Caleb had decided to join the Cullens on the Reserve. Seth considered them family, and although Leah was not fond of vampires in general, she enjoyed leading her own pack far away from the politics and drama of her native tribe. Caleb, a close friend of Seth's, had a heightened awareness of the thoughts of animals. Because of this, he shared an unlikely similarity with the Cullens. Just as they chose a blood source alternative to their natural diet, Caleb abstained from eating like his wolf kin. He was a vegetarian in the true sense of the word.

The pack's main duty was to serve as additional security for the Reserve and Compound. Under Caleb's direction, they also kept track of the wildlife population and oversaw the care of animals rotated through the large Canteen enclosures. The vampires living on the Compound rarely drained their prey, and if they did, it was to cull sick animals or overabundant species. Vampires found it terribly difficult to leave an animal alive during a feeding, but the payoff of their control was worth it when they were able to feed from larger predators more often.

Carlisle could smell the scent of whitetail deer blood on Seth and knew that he had come back from hunting. Left unchecked, the deer population multiplied quickly, so they were the go-to choice when residents desired to finish off their prey.

Seth was full of spirit and sprang at Edward as the vampire neared. The two wrestled for a few minutes until Seth twisted out of Edward's grasp and bolted toward the trees. Edward's cry of "cheater!" followed the wolf as he took off after him.

Chuckling to himself, Carlisle jogged over to the pile of shoes and work clothes that his son had left behind. He neatly folded the trio of suit jacket, pants, and shirt and laid them on a nearby bench, along with the hastily discarded shoes. He knew that Edward wouldn't care about the condition of the clothes when he put them back on after the run, but Carlisle enjoyed performing "fatherly" duties whenever he could.

Besides, he really didn't want to hear another rant from Alice about how bespoke Brioni suits should be treated with respect. Enduring that particular brand of torture once in his immortal life was more than enough for him.

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

The mood inside the limo was somber as the vehicle approached the town limits of Forks. The countryside still bore marks of destruction from the battle, even five years later. Between patched-up storefronts and buildings bearing swaths of mismatched paint, blackened hulls that used to be family residences remained as memorials to those who had either perished in the fighting or had decided to start again elsewhere.

Carlisle's hands curled into fists in his lap as he struggled to contain his grief. In many ways, the devastation brought upon this town was his fault. He had chosen to bring the family back to Forks, and in doing so, doomed the residents to their fate as collateral damage. Victoria and Riley's newborn army, secretly backed by Caius, sought to destroy the Cullens, and although Carlisle tried his best to cut them off outside of town, the plan had failed in spectacular fashion.

Rosalie stretched out an arm and took one of his hands in her own. She'd stepped into the maternal role for the family —though her style tended more toward tough love than Esme's gentle understanding. When it came to Carlisle, however, Rosalie could only show sympathy and compassion.

His richly golden eyes met hers as he acknowledged her support, and then he returned his attention to the scarred townscape. The limo rolled past two motels and onward to the shared campus of Forks' three public schools. The first car in the convoy pulled onto a grass field next to a large canopy tent, and the other vehicles followed suit.

A man in a black suit climbed out of the leading Suburban and looked around. The next person out was a tall, trim woman with sharp blue eyes and slightly graying blond hair. Her navy pinstripe pantsuit was obviously expensive and tailored to fit her body. Carlisle had no idea what brand it was, but he'd absorbed enough over the years to know that Alice would have approved.

The Vice President of the United States took a moment to gather her bearings. When she spotted Carlisle stepping out of the limo, her face broke into a smile.

Flanked by her assistant and two Secret Service agents, she strode toward the gathering group of vampires.

"Carlisle!" She didn't hesitate to give him a warm yet professionally appropriate half-hug.

"Hello, Sydney. It's wonderful to see you again. How was your trip?"

"Long. I was in Florida kissing the asses of wealthy campaign contributors. Gotta love the year before an election." She nodded her head toward a small gathering of people under the tent. "Shall we?"

Automatically, Carlisle looked to the head of his security team. Rosalie took her role very seriously and had admonished him often during his early days as Chancellor. Though he thought it wholly unnecessary to be under the protection of one vampire—much less four—Jasper insisted upon a dedicated security detail. The rest of his staff had agreed, especially Angela, who pointed out that the presence of a full entourage would also support his public image as a legitimate head of state.

Eventually, he'd come to accept the constant hovering of Rosalie and her team, consisting of Emmett, Tanya, and Demetri. For the trip to Forks, Emmett and Demetri had arrived several hours ahead of the main group to scout out the location for possible threats. Carlisle knew full well that they spent only a handful of minutes in Forks and the rest of the time hunting for fun in the surrounding forest. Rosalie had grumbled quite a bit, but Carlisle didn't blame the boys at all. In fact, he was looking forward to doing the same after the events of the day concluded.

It was a pleasant afternoon in Forks—warm but not hot, with patches of fluffy white clouds in the sky. Carlisle noted the faint iridescent sheen of Rosalie's skin in the filtered sunlight as she conferred with three local law enforcement personnel. After centuries of hiding in the shadows around humans, he found it remarkable to walk so freely among them now. When one considered how much supernatural had been thrust upon them in such a brief time period, it was rather impressive how accepting the majority of the population had been.

One man in Rosalie's group kept up a constant survey of his surroundings, even as he participated in the conversation at hand. Carlisle recognized him as the Forks Chief of Police, Roger Davis. The stocky man had been the Chief Deputy when the Battle of Forks occurred. His superior, Charles Swan, was among the first killed when the newborn army descended upon the town. Carlisle had worked with Davis in organizing medical support for the wounded during the aftermath. The man's twitchy, restless demeanor was polar opposite of the ever-stoic Chief Swan, but he did an admirable job stepping into the duties of Chief, regardless.

A small group of people, led by the mayor of Forks, walked out from under the tent to greet the Chancellor and Vice President. Under Rosalie, Tanya, and the Secret Service agents' watchful eyes, the two dignitaries chatted with various residents of the region. Carlisle knew many of them personally from his days as one of the town doctors.

The ceremony itself didn't last very long. The program struck a careful balance between solemn remembrance and hopeful determination. Despite the delicate approach to the subject matter, emotions ran high among the crowd. Muffled sobs and quiet sniffles punctuated the speakers' presentations as attendees mourned what was lost. Carlisle understood the feelings all too well. He sat with his head bowed and his jaw tightly clenched. Every so often, his hand passed across his eyes as if to wipe away tears that could never fall.

At the ceremony's conclusion, he and Sydney stood in receiving lines to shake hands and meet more of the area's residents. It did not escape his notice that a number of people chose only to wait in the Vice President's queue. Some even shot hostile glares toward him and the members of his security team.

It was to be expected, especially in Forks, Carlisle thought sadly. The presence of vampires in town no doubt amplified unresolved feelings of resentment and even outright hate. It didn't matter to some that the Cullens had been essential in turning back the newborns that day—or later in ending the war as a whole. Those people regarded all vampires as evil creatures who should not be allowed to exist. What dismayed Carlisle most was that they had looked on him kindly when they knew him only as a doctor. Some were people he had even considered as friends.

The sun was halfway between its apex and the horizon when Rosalie interrupted a conversation between the Chancellor and the manager of the local Thriftway.

"Excuse me, sir. It's time to leave for La Push. Our escorts will be waiting at the rendezvous point soon."

The Vice President's Deputy Assistant murmured something similar in Sydney's ear. After goodbyes were exchanged, the dignitaries and their entourages climbed into their vehicles, and the motorcade proceeded to the Quileute Reservation.

A number of people in both human and wolf form were gathered at the old treaty line demarcating the boundaries to the Reservation. The Cullen "territory" had been disestablished several years ago, but the Quileutes still did not allow vampires free passage inside their borders.

Councilwoman Sue Clearwater was the first to come forward to greet Carlisle and Sydney. She was considered the unofficial liaison between Quileutes and Cullens; her two children lived with them, after all. Sue wasn't particularly enamored with Leah and Seth's choice, but she tried to make the best of the situation and her unique position within the tribe.

"Hello, Carlisle. Welcome back," she said quietly, then turned to Sydney. "Greetings, Madam Vice President. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise. I admire the work you did helping to draft the Global Security Council Charter. It's a fine piece of legislation. If you ever change your mind about coming to D.C…."

"You'll be the first person I inform," Sue said, giving her an indulgent smile. "Now, if everyone is ready, Head Councilman Ateara has assembled the rest of the tribe at First Beach."

Sydney returned to her Suburban with the two Secret Service agents and her Deputy Assistant. Sue gestured to an old Jeep and waited for Carlisle to join her. He nodded and prepared to cross the treaty line, but Rosalie took a step in front of him before he could do so. Her eyes were narrowed in discontent.

"Just one of us, that's all I'm asking," she said. "It's unacceptable—not to mention stupid—for you to go alone. You'll be severely outnumbered, and if anything should happen to you—"

"I'll be fine," Carlisle said. "These are our friends, our allies. We will respect their wishes."

His tone was mild, but the unwavering glance he gave made it clear there would be no further discussion about the issue. Crossing her arms in annoyance, Rosalie huffed and then grudgingly stepped aside.

"We'll be patrolling the border," she announced loudly enough for all to hear. "Call if you need anything…uh, sir."

A low whine vibrated through the chests of the four wolves on the Quileute side when Carlisle approached Sue and shook her hand. He dipped his head toward the large black wolf who had stationed himself closest to the vampires.

"It's good to see you again, Sam."

The black wolf barked out a greeting.

Rosalie and Tanya watched with narrowed eyes as Carlisle and Sue took their seats in the Jeep. The wolves fanned out around the vehicle and kept pace as it disappeared around a bend in the road.

"Come on," Rosalie muttered. "Let's go find the boys and put them back to work."

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

Sydney Parker tried not to stare, but she was wildly curious about the thin, brown-haired girl whose skin color was several shades lighter than the rest of the Quileutes. Her paleness could almost compete with the vampires'.

The Vice President decided that the young woman—probably in her early 20s—must be the girlfriend of the extremely tall Quileute beside her. While the two weren't holding hands, the lad stood close, his elbow occasionally nudging her side. Still, Sydney was surprised to see her, girlfriend or not, at the tribute ceremony: the briefing she received indicated that only Quileutes and high-ranking honored guests were permitted to attend the ritual.

Sue Clearwater cleared up Sydney's confusion when introductions were made.

"Have you met Jacob Black yet?" Sue asked, grasping the young man's elbow to lead him forward. "He's Billy's only son."

"Billy…Black? The U.S. Ambassador and Head of the North American Security Council?"

"Yes, that's him."

Sydney's face broke into a wide smile as her arm reached out to Jacob. "Your father is a natural leader and top-notch diplomat. I'm very pleased to finally meet you."

Jacob stared at the Vice President's extended hand as if it were a poisonous snake. He didn't move until Sue tightened her grip around his elbow.

"Hi," he muttered as he shook her hand, his eyes looking everywhere but her face.

Sydney was puzzled by his recalcitrance but kept her expression pleasant. She'd raised three boys and was familiar with their more surly moods.

"This beautiful young lady is Isabella Swan," Sue continued. "Her father was Forks' Chief of Police but lost his life during the Battle. Billy is her legal guardian, and she lives on the Reservation with him and Jake."

"My sincere condolences, Isabella," Sydney said, her voice earnest. "The nation will never forget his sacrifice."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," Isabella replied graciously as she shook the Vice President's hand. "And please, call me Bella. All my friends do."

Sydney smiled. "Of course, Bella. I'd be honored if you considered me among your friends."

Nodding, Bella returned the smile with a warm one of her own. Sydney was impressed by the girl's poise and good manners. She felt a slight pang of longing. While she loved her boys, of course, she'd also wished for a little girl.

"Ah, Carlisle!" Sue said, noticing the approach of the Chancellor. "Come say hello to Jake and Bella. Jake hasn't changed much, naturally, but look at Charlie's lovely daughter, all grown up! So different from the teen who spent so much time in your emergency room, isn't she?"

Sydney had just started to turn her head toward Carlisle when the world went crazy and chaos erupted all around her.

Out of the corner of her eye, the boy who was Billy's son seemed to explode outward into a large mass of reddish-brown fur. One of his massive paws knocked her to the ground as he leaped, teeth bared, toward Carlisle's stunned form. At the same time, three more of the Quileute boys morphed into chocolate brown, spotted gray, and dark gray wolves. They also rushed at the Chancellor.

Everything happened in a heartbeat, but Sydney's brain was able to catalog some of the unexpected events. She also noticed the four wolves who accompanied them from the treaty line were only watching the attack from the sidelines. A howling sand-colored wolf raced across the beach and jumped into the middle of fray, and at first, she thought he was also trying to attack Carlisle. But it immediately became clear that he was working with the vampire instead of against him.

Despite the resounding vocalizations of the wolves, Sydney could also hear shouts from other Quileutes and one of her security personnel. Although clutching a profusely bleeding leg, he was yelling at her to get up and take cover. She scrambled to her feet and identified the second Secret Service agent lying either dead or unconscious a short distance away.

Sydney spared a quick glance at Sue, who was screaming something about "her little boy" as tears ran down her face. The hysterical woman wouldn't be of any use to her in that state, so Sydney looked to the next nearest person. Perhaps the girl named Bella could lead her to a safe location.

But when Sydney's eyes met Bella's she realized that the girl was the last person in the world who would help her. And considering the utter hatred that contorted her delicate features, Bella just might be the most dangerous.

"One way or another," the girl said, venom in her voice, "the world is going to learn that those bloodsuckers bring nothing but death and destruction. Anyone who's a leech-lover is a traitor to the human race and my enemy. _You_ are a traitor."

Sydney's gasp died in her throat when Bella pulled a gun from her bag. She stared in shock as the girl raised the weapon, aimed at her head, and fired.

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

* * *

 **Hello! I'm attempting to update at least every two weeks—more frequently if possible. Compared to my other recent fics, these chapters are much longer!**

 **If you're reading The Fence, I apologize for the similar cliffy ending to this chapter! It was just coincidence that the timing worked out like this, lol.**

 **I have quite a few THANK YOUs to give this week:**

 **\- FicSisters was so amazing to work with as I rolled out this new fic. They've supported my writing from BOTH our beginnings. :^) Thank you for allowing me to share my story!**

 **\- I was absolutely humbled by ADifferentForest's request to feature me in their Author's Spotlight. It was truly an honor for me.**

 **\- Thanks for Nic for the mention at The Lemonade Stand!**

 **\- I was surprised and thrilled to see IYD rec'd by two WIPs that I follow! Thanks to Payton79 ( Two Blue Lines) and fyrebyrd89 (A Sharp Left Turn). If you haven't read these two fics, I highly suggest you check them out!**

 **\- As always, thanks SO much to you, the readers and reviewers! I can't tell you how appreciative I am that you took a chance on my first Vampward! Love you all!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Consequences

**Chapter 3 - Consequences**

* * *

 _I want to kill her…slowly. Break every bone in her body and leave her screaming in agony. Maybe I'll pull out her fingernails one by one…but then…there would be blood, and I don't want to be tempted… No. I would never find_ her _blood appealing. Control wouldn't be an issue. I'd have no trouble at all slicing her open and—_

"Angela! Please!"

Edward had reached his limit of tolerance for the secretary's homicidal thoughts. They'd started the evening prior when the news first broke and had increased in intensity since then. As the group of vampires watched the helicopter approach the landing pad, she was practically screaming her rage to all within mental hearing range—namely, Edward.

"Sorry," she muttered under her breath, quiet enough that the group of reporters nearby wouldn't take notice.

 _Except that I'm not sorry. Ugh, I can't believe we were friends in high school. Too bad I didn't see her true colors back then. I could've made sure she had an 'unfortunate' accident and prevented all this. Hmm, what are all the ways I could've killed her? Drowned her at La Push? Put rat poison in her food? Bashed in her skull with a baseball bat?_

"If you're not able to control yourself, you can go back inside," Edward growled. "In fact, maybe it would be better if you did leave. I don't want an incident, especially with the press here."

"No, I'll be good. I promise."

Although her tone had a sarcastic edge, Edward knew how much she wanted to stay. Her anxiety wouldn't be relieved until she saw with her own eyes that Carlisle was safe and sound.

Besides, Angela wasn't the only one having such thoughts about Isabella Swan, the Vice President's 23-year-old assailant, although Jasper's were slightly less violent in nature. The blond-haired vampire was recalling Isabella Swan's sweet scent and wishing he had given into his intense desire for her blood.

Alice also remembered her classmate.

 _She seemed like such a nice girl, at least from what I could tell. I should've gotten to know her better. Maybe if I'd spent time with her, I could have foreseen her role in our lives. But then, she's spent so much time with the Quileutes. They do have a powerful effect on my ability…er, sorry, Edward._

Edward replied with a sardonic roll of his eyes. Once again, Alice was cutting him too much slack. She was concerned about his reaction to her private thoughts—thoughts that were far too dismissive of her condition. Instead of comforting, she should be condemning him, especially considering it was _his_ fault how intimately familiar she was with the wolves' impact on her precognitive talent.

Two other helicopter escorts circled overhead as the helo touched down on the pad and executed a textbook perfect landing. Edward could hear the thoughts of the passengers…and the pilot. Tanya congratulated herself on another flawless execution. She was thankful for Rosalie's paranoia and refusal to let a human take the captain's chair. To Tanya, flying the helo was much more interesting than reviewing the same security threats over and over.

And that's exactly what Rosalie was doing with Emmett and Demetri. The security chief held herself personally responsible for the attack on Carlisle and vowed not to be caught unprepared again. The two men on her team devoted just enough brain power to the briefing to look involved, but they were more interested in the thumb war going on under the table.

As for the Chancellor himself—he kept his thoughts tightly controlled, his focus on the upcoming video conference with Volterra. Edward realized that Carlisle was shielding information from his discovery. It didn't bother him, however. If he was meant to know, his father would tell him in due time. Edward had learned much about patience in the last five years.

The press was abnormally subdued when the Chancellor finally exited the helo. Of course, their behavior was motivated more by fear than any show of respect to the attack victim. Rosalie didn't bother limiting her speed as she performed security checks. Although Jasper acted in deliberate contrast, his intensity was no less fierce. Edward almost felt sorry for the nervous reporters as they tried to do their jobs.

For all the to-do, Carlisle spent only fifteen minutes with the press. He waved, shook hands, and answered questions in a genuine, yet craftily evasive manner. Centuries of masquerading as a human had given him much practice in that area.

Shutters clicked furiously when the Chancellor and his eldest son finally embraced. It was a brief hug, but the shared joy and relief was easy to see on both men's faces. The incident in Forks had reminded them once again that just because they _could_ live forever didn't mean that they necessarily would.

Kate and Garrett took charge of escorting the reporters off the Compound as the core staff entered the Manor. Edward had to give Angela props: although the fantasy of a blissful reunion with Carlisle played in her head, she appeared completely professional and detached on the outside.

Alice, who waited in the library, showed the opposite reaction. She ran across the room the moment he entered and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're alright," she murmured, her face buried in his chest. The material of his suit jacket stretched under the force of her concern, but if she noticed, she didn't care. Alice had become more sentimental as a result of the Great War and was not shy about showing her affection.

By the time she disentangled herself and stepped back, the rest of the staff had taken their seats and were prepared to begin the meeting. Brady made a few strokes on his touchscreen control panel, and a large LCD screen flickered to life.

Five red-eyed vampires sat around an ornately-carved conference table in the library of Volterra Palace. Their heavy, high-backed chairs with deep crimson padding complemented the building's Gothic-inspired architectural style and décor.

Aro always did lean toward the dramatic.

His sense of self-importance hadn't suffered during the change of leadership within the vampire world, even though he now deferred to men whose deaths he'd once contemplated. As the third highest ranking vampire within the Populace's oligarchy, Aro still enjoyed a position of authority. His official title of Praetor gave him the responsibility of serving as Edward's counterpart for the Eastern Hemisphere of the globe.

His staff was a mix of both old and new Volterran residents. Marcus, who sat directly to the right of Aro's place at the head of the table, had ruled with him and Caius for over 1200 years. Once freed from Chelsea's restrictive bonds of loyalty, Marcus voiced his preference for Carlisle's style of leadership and gladly accepted a more subordinate role. In the past, he'd had to cast the deciding vote when Aro and Caius took opposing stances, which happened fairly often. With this pressure removed, Marcus felt more content than he had been in millennia—at least since the death of his mate.

To Aro's left sat Maggie, the linchpin of the entire Volterran organization. Her ability to identify falsehood allowed her to validate Aro's interrogation session reports and helped ensure that he conducted state business in a scrupulous manner. Without her continuous affirmation, the fallen ruler would not be trusted in such an esteemed position.

Heidi, along with Demetri and Corin, joined forces early with the Cullens, just after the Battle of Forks when Caius revealed his alliance with Victoria. Aro had taken his time choosing sides, and Marcus was indifferent. Heidi once had been covenmates with Victoria and was familiar with her instability. She didn't trust the judgment of anyone who could associate with such a loose cannon, and in her opinion, Caius had long been making his way down a dangerous path.

In contrast, she respected Carlisle's calm demeanor during his time living in Volterra. He was level-headed and fair, which made a nice change from Caius's capricious nature. Unlike Demetri, however, she chose to stay in Volterra with Corin instead of moving to the United States. While there was no hard and fast rule that all residents at the Cullen Compound must abstain from human blood, they did so out of choice. Heidi had no desire to change her diet and didn't want to feel out of place. Her duties to the Populace included serving as Aro's secretary, mainly because she was the most organized and capable. Although interacting with Aro so closely required a good deal of patience at times, she enjoyed her new influence over him. Aro would be lost without Heidi's secretarial efforts, and he knew it.

Quick-tempered Liam was the chief of Aro's personal security team and also acted as the Populace's Deputy Director of Security. Like Jasper, his superior, he had a military background that aided him in the task of ensuring the state's safety as a whole. Liam could be challenging to work with, however. His mate Siobhan perished in the war, and anger sometimes colored his judgment. He had been relentless in his pursuit of Caius's forces and delivered punishment with a vengeance. Jasper had to rein him in on more than one occasion when his zeal for justice flirted with brutality.

It was Liam who displayed the most outward anxiety when the video conference began. His dark red eyes burned into the screen as it delivered accusing glares to both Rosalie and Jasper. Even without the benefit of hearing his thoughts, Edward knew the Irishman believed that the attack on Carlisle wouldn't have happened on _his_ watch.

"Greetings, Chancellor Cullen, esteemed colleagues." Aro smiled and spread his arms wide. "It is a pleasure to see you today. As always, Chancellor, I pledge my loyalty to you and the Populace without reservation or subversion."

Maggie dipped her chin ever so slightly, knowing that all eyes were focused on her reaction. Liam was especially interested. One twitch of her head in the wrong direction would have him setting fire to Aro's dismembered body within seconds.

But the Praetor spoke the truth. He was a smart man with clear awareness of the situation. Given his other choices—death or a modest life of little distinction within the general population—Aro had realigned his expectations to make the most of Carlisle's generosity.

"I am especially glad to find you unharmed after such a malicious attack," he continued. "It is a testament to your ability that you were able to hold four wolves at bay until your security team arrived."

"Thank you, Aro. It's good to see you, as well." A tiny crease formed on Carlisle's normally smooth brow. "However, most of the credit goes to our young friend Seth Clearwater. If he hadn't accompanied us to visit his family and friends, the conclusion might have been much different. The hostile pack was reluctant to attack a fellow wolf, and the second pack intervened only to protect him. Seth did suffer several broken bones, but he should be completely healed in another day or two."

"Very fortunate, indeed. And what of the U.S. Vice President? Reports indicated only that an attempt on her life had been thwarted by your team."

"Tanya shielded her from the bullet and took care of the assailant," Rosalie said. "Vice President Parker wasn't harmed."

"How did she _take care_ o' the attacker?" Liam demanded to know, his accent thick. "Was the woman left alive to be questioned? What of the hounds?"

Rosalie's mouth twisted into a sneer. "The _girl_ 's name is Isabella Swan. And sadly, yes, she's still breathing. The U.S. Secret Service had to negotiate for custody of Swan because the attack happened on Quileute Reservation lands. As for the dogs, I tried my best to—"

"The fate of the renegade pack is in the hands of their tribe," Carlisle said in a firm voice. "I trust them to take care of the matter."

" _Trust_ is what put you at risk in the first place!" Rosalie exclaimed, ignoring Angela's hiss of disapproval and Alice's dismayed sigh. "We may have fought on the same side as the Quileutes and other spirit warriors during the war, but you can't ignore instincts and the natural way of things! The facts are simple. Humans are the intended food source for vampires, and spirit warriors protect them. Either side would be stupid to fully trust the other."

"You raise good points, but this is a closed matter. The Quileute Tribal Council will question the pack and determine its punishment. They've promised full disclosure to us and the U.S. government."

Aro watched the exchange between Carlisle and Rosalie with interest. "Have you learned anything further about motives behind the attack?"

"None of them will talk," Rosalie grumbled. "I can understand any dog going after any vampire; it's what they're born to do. But the girl and the Vice President…I don't get it."

"According to the report, the girl shouted at the Vice President before she opened fire," Jasper recalled. "She accused Vice President Parker of being a 'leech-lover' and a 'traitor' to her race. Swan said she was 'her enemy.' That sounds personal to me."

"Well, her father was killed by our kind," Alice pointed out. "You don't get much more personal than that."

"But it wasn't _us_!" said Rosalie. "We were doing our damnedest to stop the newborns. Hell, we suffered losses, too." She glanced sympathetically at Carlisle and Alice before continuing. "Maybe the girl has been brainwashed by the dogs after spending so much time with them. She wasn't such a whack job when we were in high school with her."

"Rosalie, I don't want to hear you using derogatory terms like that, especially during a staff meeting," Carlisle said sternly. "I've let it slide too many times, and it ends now."

"Sorry, sir," she muttered.

"Hold on now. You be knowin' this Swan girl personally?" Liam's voice rang out from the speakers. "All o' ye?"

"Alice and I had a few classes with her at Forks High School after she enrolled during January of 2005," Jasper said. "Rosalie and Emmett saw her in passing for a few months before they graduated."

"She was a patient of mine twice," Carlisle added. "Both were brief encounters in the Emergency Room. I didn't interact with her beyond that."

Aro leaned forward in his chair. "Edward, you stayed in Alaska with the Denali coven when the rest of the Cullens relocated to Forks, yes?"

Struggling to ignore the flood of memories from those two years, Edward gave a curt nod. "That is correct. I returned one time in 2005 to assist my family with destroying the nomad James, who had a renewed interest in Alice. I came again the following year when the mass killings occurred in Seattle, just before the newborns' attack on Forks. I never met Isabella Swan."

"Fascinating," Aro murmured to himself, seemingly lost in thought.

Edward hesitated and then looked toward Carlisle's secretary, who was brooding silently with her head buried in her laptop. "I suppose I shouldn't fail to mention that Angela had the closest relationship to Isabella Swan of us all."

"Oh, that's right!" Alice said. "You two were friends. I'm surprised you didn't say something earlier."

"That's because I'm trying to forget about it," Angela growled, not looking up from the screen. "My human memories are crap, anyway."

"Yes, but if you could think of something that would explain why she—"

"There's no point! The Bella Swan that I was friends with in high school never could've tried to murder someone in cold blood. Either she's changed so much that I wouldn't know her anymore, or I never knew her in the first place. End of story."

"Ah, come on to fuck wilya. That was helpful," Liam said sardonically. "But t'be honest, I could care in me shit for humans killin' each other off. I do be flummoxed why no one is throwin' a fit o'er the Black pup's old man—the leader of your security council and an ambassador to World Summits. There's not a way he didn' know about the attack when t'was his own lad who planned it, to be sure. He mucks around with chiefs of all the shape-shiftin' tribes across the world. Who better to plot war against us than he?"

"Ambassador Black didn't know anything about it," Edward spoke up confidently. "I met with him in D.C. yesterday evening. He was genuinely surprised, disheartened, and shamed by the attacks on the Chancellor and the Vice President."

"Perhaps he _seemed_ honest," said Aro. "However, we all know it is possible to obscure thoughts from your detection." His emphasis on the word _your_ was barely present, but no one missed it. "I would assume a man of his position and background would be skilled in such things."

Brady was quick to reply before anyone else. His eyes flashed dark with anger. "The Security Director was also at the meeting, and he sensed the same emotions. In addition, Ambassador Black offered to prove his sincerity to our Chief Magistrate through an interrogation session. We all know that it's impossible to hide thoughts during a session—isn't that right, _Praetor_?"

To his credit, Aro's pleasant expression never wavered, although both Marcus and Heidi shifted in discomfort. Of the vampires participating in the video conference, those three understood Brady's words better than the rest. In order to be accepted as members of the Populace government, the Volturi and their former associates had to undergo interrogation sessions of their own.

It was an experience none of them wished to repeat.

Since his first day as a newborn vampire, Edward could see into the minds of others. It was purely a passive talent and—as Aro had pointed out—one that could be deceived or thwarted with practiced concentration.

After the Battle of Forks, that was no longer the case. Edward had been helping Alice chase down a newborn when an irresistible fragrance besieged his senses. The attraction was like nothing he'd ever experienced, and he had no choice but to follow its insistent call. It captured the whole of his attention at the same time it destroyed his sanity.

Just like the change from human to vampire, only fragmented flashes of memory remained of the event—the second-most profound of his life. He was able to recall the glow of weak morning sunlight fanning upward from the horizon. The throaty growl of a wolf silencing the cry of a shattered vampire. Broken glass from the motel's window still in the process of raining down onto the floor even as Edward's teeth sunk into the neck of a sleeping woman.

And then his world opened up.

Before, he hadn't required contact to use his gift and could hear multiple minds at once. But he was limited to conscious thoughts of the moment. Similar to a car on a winding road in the woods, he could only see the part of the path he was currently on.

In that way, Aro's ability had been superior. When the ancient vampire touched another person, he was granted the entirety of their thoughts, past and present. Like a bird soaring above a town, he could pick out the memory of his choice and alight in its midst for closer inspection.

But as Edward sucked down the sticky sweet lifeblood of his singer, he became more than a vehicle following along the two-dimensional track of others' thoughts. He was more than even a winged-creature free to fly through the varied landscape of one person's mind. No, Edward had ascended into orbit as a satellite: he could look down upon _all_ the minds, choose the one he wanted, and explore it at will.

When he could suddenly "see" so much than before, at first, Edward thought he'd either gone insane or had experienced another vampire rebirth. His head was overwhelmed with thoughts that had taken on a new kind of depth, and many of them were disjointed, fantastical, or just plain…weird. He soon recognized those as human dreams. It seemed they provided doorways through which he could enter an individual's collection of musings and memories.

In the days that followed, he tested the boundaries of his expanded abilities. With the help of Eleazar, who was knowledgeable in vampire gifts, Edward learned that while his power was potent and advantageous, its use came with severe consequences. He could explore the minds of any sleeping human within a radius of approximately a mile. If a person wasn't asleep, he could force the individual into such a state. However, this required a good deal of exertion, both mental _and_ physical.

For the first time in his vampire life, Edward experienced true bodily exhaustion. And to the surprise of everyone, he subsequently fell into a dreamless slumber. The ability to sleep—and the need for it—was an anomaly none had ever before witnessed.

Sifting through the entirety of a human's mind sapped his strength, but the exertion was insignificant compared to the draining effort of exploring that of another vampire. After all, his kind did not sleep (excepting himself), and their minds were much more vast. Without the convenience of an unconsciousness state to offer an accessible gateway, Edward had to force his way past a vampire's surface thoughts.

This action did come with severe personal cost to him, but the individual being violated suffered a great deal worse. For vampires like Heidi and Demetri, the experience felt as if something was inside their heads— pushing outward, squeezing inward, cutting, burning, ripping, destroying. During the process, they were rendered immobile and senseless except for the agony of all-consuming pain. Even after Edward released his mental hold, their ache lingered. It required several hours for one to recover completely from an "interrogation."

Everyone except Aro. He had felt the effects for days.

The ancient vampire's mental strength was such that Edward nearly failed to uncover all of his secrets. The deepest, darkest vaults of his mind were highly fortified, and Edward had to batter his way through the thick barricades.

Both men were left trembling and weak-limbed after the session. They were also left with the knowledge that Edward's ability was now one of the most powerful mental gifts in all of vampire lore.

Aro had never felt so humbled.

He didn't want to draw the natural conclusion, but with Brady pushing the issue, Aro was forced to concede that no mind was safe from exploitation. Not his, and certainly not Ambassador William Black, a "lowly" Quileute who didn't even have the ability to transform like his son.

"You are absolutely right, young Brady," Aro allowed, his gracious tone betraying no hint of the irritation he felt. "Mr. Black would not be able to hide any devious inclinations from our esteemed Chief Magistrate. Perhaps the Ambassador's son and his female ward acted of their own accord. Still, I share Liam's concerns about a deeper threat."

"As do we all," Jasper said in a diplomatic tone. "That's exactly why the security risk assessment was ordered. It's my top priority for the next two weeks."

"And although questioning the dog—, er, Jacob Black seems unlikely, I'm working on a deal to get the Swan girl turned over to us for interrogation," Rosalie said. "We might be able to take custody as early as Monday. In fact—"

Edward heard Carlisle's silent expletive just before the older vampire interrupted.

"Actually, that won't be possible. Edward isn't available next week."

He now understood what Carlisle had been keeping from him since returning. The Chancellor was determined that Edward would take a vacation period and wanted nothing to interfere—not even the investigation of an assassination attempt on his own life.

"I think that this takes precedence over other…obligations," Edward said, trying to maintain an even tone.

Carlisle shook his head. "We already discussed this, Edward. Ms. Swan isn't going anywhere, and a week's delay won't make a difference in the grand scheme of things."

"It won't make a difference in my case, either. There's no way your objective for me could be achieved with this situation on my mind. I wouldn't be able to think of anything else. We need answers. _I_ need answers. Please, Father…for my sake."

Carlisle stared at Edward with all the gravity that his three hundred sixty years afforded him. When he read nothing but sincerity and concern in his eldest son's eyes, he sighed.

 _Bringing up the family connection and appealing to my compassionate nature—well played. You've become quite the politician, Vice Chancellor._

The tone of his thoughts was wry but softened by the irrefutable love he felt for all his children.

"I suppose you can reschedule your commitment for a later time." He narrowed his eyes. "But not _too_ much later."

"Thank you, sir," Edward said, biting the inside of cheek to keep from smirking.

Carlisle growled out a low _harrumph_ and then straightened authoritatively in his seat. "Well. Now that we've discussed yesterday's incident in sufficient detail, let's move to the next item on the agenda…"

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

Edward was in the mood for a chase.

The moment he scented the animal, he broke into a flat run, not bothering to approach by stealth. Dense underbrush gave way like wisps of smoke, thick branches provided no more of a hindrance than cobwebs in his path.

It was a buck of medium size with a wide, six-point rack. The deer darted through the trees on nimble legs, but capture was a foregone conclusion. Edward leapt over a fallen tree and caught the creature in his arms. He was pulling its warm blood down his throat before his feet touched down on the forest floor.

With the third deer of the morning drained, he felt sloshy and full. Edward picked up the carcass and headed toward the drop-off site. Caleb would soon retrieve the deer, collect research data, and then process the meat for donation to struggling families residing near the compound. Unfortunately, the country was full of such people whose lives had been turned upside down as a result of the war.

Edward found he had company at the drop-off site. A chuckle of surprise slipped out when he saw what Alice held against her chest.

"Making a meal out of appetizers today?"

"I had a craving," she replied, letting a dozen rabbit carcasses fall out of her arms. "Sometimes I just wanna snack on my food, you know?"

"Not really," Edward said with a shudder. "Those things are way too sweet for me—must be all the clover they eat. Plus, didn't you hear they'll rot your teeth?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "I see age hasn't improved your sense of humor any."

"Well, I _am_ supposed to be the brooding one in the family."

"And you do it so well." She brushed stray rabbit hair from her clothes. "We've still got an hour before the transfer. How about you and I look for a sunny spot and work on our tans?"

Edward snorted. He knew his sister was up to her usual tricks and trying to keep him away from stress as long as possible. He drew a hand through his wind-tussled locks.

"You know I'd love to spend time with you, but there's a long list of tasks I need to complete. I still have to… _dammit,_ Alice. Seriously? You're going to use the guilt card on me?"

Alice smirked as she replayed the vision of her puppy-dog eyes and pouting lip. She saw herself running her fingers over the side of her blouse that covered scarred, jagged edges of flesh.

And in her vision, Edward saw himself nodding yes to her request.

"I can still change that particular outcome," he grumbled.

"But you won't. You love me."

Both things were true, and so Edward followed his sister through the woods.

She sprawled out flat on her back in the first sunny clearing she came upon. Edward lowered himself onto the sparse grass near her, their bodies making a slanted T shape.

For many moments, they remained still, quiet but deadly predators lying in repose, confident in their place at the acme of the food chain. As was often the case, Alice's thoughts centered on Jasper. Since the attack on Carlisle five days prior, he'd done little else except work on his security assessment report. When her polite suggestions failed to make an impact, she'd had to force him into a feeding break by holding his laptop hostage.

Though Jasper was now full of tiger blood—a temporary selection at the Canteen—she still felt a measure of concern about the upcoming prisoner transfer.

"Do you really think it might be an issue?" Edward asked quietly. "I thought he'd overcome his difficulty with blood lust during the war. Is this girl really that enticing?"

"She didn't smell different to me or any of the others. Just Jasper."

"Hmm. But you don't think she's his singer?"

"It wasn't easy, but he was able to control himself. From what you and Emmett have described, and from what Carlisle's said, it seems impossible to overcome the call of a singer."

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands as if he could block out the existence of his memories. "I lost my mind, Alice. Reality ceased to exist. I swear, I never would have deserted you that day if I'd had even one shred of sanity. I'm so, so sorry—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Jeez, Edward, this constant apologizing thing has moved beyond tolerably understandable and is now in annoying-as-hell territory. Look, you went crazy over your singer and ran after her, a wolf decided to go rouge and took a bite out of me, now my visions are sporadic and near-sighted. Shit happened, I got over it. _You_ need to get it over it."

"But—"

"Argh!"

Alice's attack was so spontaneous that Edward never had a chance. She pounced, flipped him onto his stomach, and pinned him to the ground, shoving his face in the dirt with her elbow. Edward struggled for several seconds before he was able to break free and reach for her. But only air existed in the place Alice had been just an instant before.

"You're going to pay for that!" he announced with a laugh as he dove for her legs.

The two wrestled for some time until Edward raised his hands in surrender.

"I give! You win. I will try my hardest to 'get over it.'" He winced. "Or at least keep my mouth shut around you. Baby steps and whatnot."

Alice regarded him with a smug grin as she straightened her rumpled clothes. "You'd better. Otherwise, I'll tell Jasper what a pansy you are, and he'll double your security."

"Don't even joke about that," Edward groaned.

Alice winked at him and then nodded in the direction of the compound.

"We should start back. The transport will be here soon, and I want to make sure he's doing okay."

Edward shook his head as they started walking. "I understand that he and Rosalie want everything to go smoothly, but they're being ridiculous. This is a girl who's hardly a threat to a single _human_ guard, and we have three vampires standing by to oversee the transfer? Jasper didn't go to nearly as much trouble for Vogel, and that man was a serial killer."

"Um, it's a special situation of national interest? I dunno, just humor them. It's not like they're hurting anything, and you have to admit this is a big deal. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone who's not on patrol will be there to watch. Not many people have an old high school classmate who tried to shoot the Vice President."

"I suppose the odds are rather low, even if we did have more classmates than most."

"We're curious about her. It's hard to imagine how this happened."

"Well, hopefully I'll have the answers by tomorrow morning. The sooner that we—the Populace, the nation, and our family—can move past this incident, the better."

"At least the session shouldn't be too bad for you," Alice said. "I doubt she's a hardened criminal at this stage in her life. Whatever's going on in her mind can't be half as bad as some of the disgusting lunatics you've dealt with before."

"I certainly hope that's true, for everyone's sake." Edward tilted his head in concentration as he surveyed the thoughts of the group gathered at the manor house's side entrance. "You were right, Alice. With the exception of Carlisle, I think everyone not on duty _is_ planning to greet our newest…guest."

"Ha. Guest," Alice snickered. "I forgot to put a mint on her pillow."

Edward's pocket buzzed. He checked the message on the screen.

"The van from the Hazelton Federal Penitentiary will be here in 10 minutes." He sighed and then forced his lips into a tight grin.

Alice reached for his hand as they neared the manor.

"Come on, brother dear. Let's go roll out the welcome mat."

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

* * *

 **Thanks SO much to pre-readers Powered by 23 Kicks, Fyrebyrd89, and purpleC305. Their feedback was invaluable!**

 **Tarbecca at ADifferentForest dot net recommended** **In Your Dreams** **in last week's Fic Dive! Check out that amazing site for additional recs, good conversation, special features, and more! Another story of mine, Summer's Hidden Melody, is up for Fic Dive of the Year on that site, as well. :^)**

 **Thank you to GeekChic12 for mentioning my story in her own recently completed fic, Plowed. I just read it today and thoroughly enjoyed it! The heat hits fast and hard, lol.**

 **And as always, I appreciate every reader and every review. Thank you all SO MUCH!**


	4. Chapter 4 - IYD Character List

**CHARACTERS**

 _Vampire Populace Hierarchy_

Carlisle – Chancellor

_._._ [Angela – Carlisle's Secretary]

1\. Edward – Vice Chancellor, Chief Magistrate

_._._ [Brady – Edward's Secretary]

_._ A. Jasper – Security Director, Edward's Personal Security Chief

_._._ a. Alice – Public Relations Director, Edward's Security

_._._ b. Kate – Edward's Security

_._._ c. Garrett – Edward's Security

_._ B. Rosalie – Carlisle's Personal Security Chief

_._._ a. Emmett – Carlisle's Security

_._._ b. Tanya – Carlisle's Security

_._._ c. Demetri – Carlisle's Security

2\. Aro – Praetor, Third in Line

_._._. [Heidi – Aro's Secretary]

_._ A. Marcus – Council Member

_._ B. Liam – Security Deputy Director, Aro's Personal Security Chief

_._._ a. Santiago – Aro's Security

_._._ b. Renata – Aro's Security

_._ C. Maggie – Council Member

_._._ a. Corin – Public Relations

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

 _Quileute Nation_

Tribal Council

Quil Ateara, IV - Tribal Council Chief

William Black - Director, North American Security Council; U.S. Ambassador to World Security Council

Sue Clearwater - Council Member

Mary Uley - Council Member

Luke Alita - Council Member

Wolf Packs

 **Jake** , Quil (V), Embry, Scott

 **Sam** , Devin, Zeke, Thomas

 **Leah** , Seth, Caleb

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

 _United States of America_

President - Stephen Marshall

Vice President - Sydney Parker


	5. Chapter 5 - First Encounters

**Chapter 5 - First Encounters**

* * *

Edward was puzzled.

He knew the thoughts of three people in the prisoner transport van. Two human males and one female. The driver gripped the steering wheel tightly as the Compound's main access gate opened. He was nervous about meeting vampires for the first time. Beside him in the front passenger seat, his fellow correctional officer gave a hum appreciation when the Manor House and its perfectly maintained grounds came into view. The third officer escort rode in the back of the van and reviewed prisoner transfer guidelines. She didn't want to make a mistake on such high-profile proceedings.

Edward felt the mental presence of three correctional officers from Hazelton Federal Penitentiary.

But there were supposed to be four people in the vehicle.

Through the eyes of the third guard, Edward could see the girl, Isabella Swan, sitting in a metal-framed confinement cell. She obviously existed in the physical sense, yet he couldn't access her mind. He concentrated on the area of space he knew her to occupy, but nothing was there.

Nothing at all.

Such a thing had never happened to him, not even before his abilities had been enhanced.

Her apparent mental silence wasn't the only strange phenomenon he discovered. She had unique scent, and he detected it much earlier than those of her companions. The aroma was potent—rich and heady, seductively enticing. It burned his throat and beckoned him near. It caused every single muscle in his body to tense, ready for the hunt. More than any other time in his vampire life, save one, he wanted to close his hands around a human's neck, bring it to his lips, slide his teeth over the delicate skin, and suck down the blood until not a drop was left.

With a tightly clenched jaw, he cut off the flow of air to his lungs and directed a questioning glance toward Jasper. The Security Director wore a similarly strained expression. He could feel Edward's desire, which made fighting his own a much more difficult endeavor.

Jasper's brow furrowed in confusion. _It affects you, too?_ _That's odd. No one else in the family noticed a difference when we were around her in Forks. I wonder why you—_

Jasper's thought was interrupted by a deluge of emotion—a hungry, animalistic need for blood. An instant later, he took off at top speed after a vampire whose sole focus was to feed on the source of such a mouth-watering fragrance.

As quick as Jasper was, Edward could run faster. Just as the van came within striking distance, the Vice Chancellor took a final long stride and then leapt into the air. He closed his arms around the target, and together, they crashed to the ground.

Demetri struggled and fought hard to free himself, but escape was a lost cause, especially when Jasper arrived to assist Edward. A wave of calm helped Demetri gain control over his lust.

"Oh, what fun," Alice said as she ran up and subtly edged Edward out of the way with her hip. She put her hand on Demetri's arm in case he tried to run again. "I certainly didn't see _that_ coming."

Demetri shook his head in remorse and looked at Edward. He opened his mouth to speak and then realized that it would be prudent not to breathe.

 _I'm sorry_. _I don't know what came over me. The scent—it's just so_ …tempting _._

"I know," Edward said. "Jasper and I also find this particular scent extremely appealing. We've had much more practice resisting human blood, though. There's no reason to be ashamed. You've done remarkably well since your conversion."

Emmett jogged up to the group and came to stop in front of Demetri. "Alrighty, then. Someone want to let us normal people in on the fun? What the hell just happened?"

Jasper held up a hand as he listened to the buzz of his earpiece. "Thanks, Rose. I'm going to have Emmett escort Demetri to you. Keep him in Security Central until we get a chance to do a complete debrief."

"I don't need to stay there with him—do I? I'd really hate to miss out on the show." Emmett tilted his head toward the transport van that rolled by them on the way to the Manor House. He thumped Demetri on the back hard enough that the vampire had to take a small step forward to keep him balance. "He'll behave. My boy's not stupid; he knows better than to piss off Rose."

Jasper gave a curt nod. "That's fine. Demetri, wait until you're inside before breathing again. Emmett, make sure you stay until it's clear he is completely under control."

Emmett and Demetri departed for Security Central, and the remaining three vampires returned to the transfer site, where Tanya and a lithe gray wolf waited beside the prisoner transport van. The strawberry blond vampire caught Edward's eye and arched a brow.

 _All this excitement over a single human female? She must be quite extraordinary, eh, zlato?_

The expression on Edward's face never changed, although he bristled inwardly at her use of the Slovakian endearment.

His discomfort wasn't due to any shame over his previous relationship with her—or her sisters, for that matter. He didn't regret staying an extra two and a half years in Denali when the rest of the Cullens moved to Forks. But he wasn't able to overcome the lingering frustration and… _disappointment_ …when reminded of that period in his life.

Even before Kate fell in love with Garrett, she respected Edward's wishes to end their tryst. She closed the door on that compartment of memories in her mind and resumed their easy friendship. Tanya, however, held onto the hope that he'd one day want more with her. She wasn't pushy about it, but neither did she curb her suggestive tendencies.

With a twitch of his shoulders, Edward acknowledged that he'd heard her comment and turned his attention to the van. The driver shook visibly in his seat, trying to control his shock over seeing a horse-sized snarling wolf burst out of a young woman's body. The guard on the passenger side also stared at Leah, but more out of intrigue than fright.

Jasper stepped in their field of view and motioned that they should exit the vehicle.

"Thank you for being patient, gentlemen," he said, looking them over with a discerning eye. "First, I'd like to inform you that Vice Chancellor and Chief Magistrate Edward Cullen will be observing the proceedings today. Sir?"

When Jasper nodded toward Edward, the eyes of the correctional officers grew wide as they recognized the man whom they'd seen countless times on television, on the Internet, and in printed media. The driver jerked forward at the waist in an awkward attempt to bow.

"Hello, sir…uh, Your Highness, sir…" he said in a wavering voice. "I'm Lieutenant Stilberg, and this is Sergeant Mueller. S-Sergeant Becklin is in the van with the prisoner."

Edward hid an amused smile and dipped his chin. "Pleased to meet you both."

The two guards probably would have stood staring for a few minutes more, but Jasper wanted to have the girl locked in her cell as quickly as possible. Knowing that Sergeant Mueller was more level-headed than the Lieutenant, Jasper spoke to him about the prisoner and had Stilberg handle the transfer paperwork with Tanya.

"What can you tell me about Swan's temperament?" he asked Mueller.

The correctional officer glanced at the van as if he could see the young woman inside. "She's been a model inmate so far. Follows directions, doesn't cause a fuss. Actually, she doesn't do much at all except read and exercise. Never hear her talk unless someone asks a direct question."

"What does she read, and how does she get her exercise?"

"Huh?" Mueller gave the Security Director a baffled look. "I'm not sure exactly what all she reads—books from the inmate library, I guess. Maybe a magazine or two? No idea what she does at the gym, but there's not much in there. Treadmills, elliptical, punching bag…a few other things."

Jasper rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Can you think of any other noteworthy information that wouldn't be included in the report?"

"Er, not off the top of my head. Sergeant Becklin might know of something. I can switch places with her so you can—"

"That won't be necessary," Jasper said, cutting the man off with a wave of his hand. "You can bring Swan out now."

Edward had been watching the girl in Becklin's mind and saw nothing extraordinary in her. She sat primly on the white metal seat, her cuffed hands folded in her lap. The shapeless khaki inmate garb she wore swallowed up her figure and made her look almost like a child. Medium length brown hair was tied away from a delicate profile that was interesting in a non-classical sort of way. Edward found her attractive on an empirical level, though her feminine appearance did nothing to arouse him.

Of course, that didn't come as much of a surprise, he thought wryly.

There was something familiar about her, however—something that put him on edge. He knew her face well from photographs, video footage, and others' thoughts, but seeing her now, in person and with her scent in the air, he had the niggling feeling that he was overlooking an important detail.

Sergeant Becklin unlocked the wire door to Isabella Swan's cell and released the tether running from her cuffs to the seat.

"Alright, Swan, this is it," Becklin said quietly. "Behave like you've been doing, and I'm sure you'll be back with us soon. Take care, okay?"

The sergeant's body blocked everyone except Edward from seeing the girl's furtive smirk. His uneasy feeling intensified at the sight of her shrewd expression.

"Don't worry, Sarge," she murmured. "I'm tougher than you think." Her lips still twisted slyly, and she let out a low, bitter chuckle.

Edward and Alice gasped.

The smaller vampire reacted so quickly that Edward didn't have time to steel himself against her forceful tug. Before the breath died on his lips, she had pulled him fifty yards away from the van.

"Alice!" he exclaimed, getting his feet under him and bringing them both to a stop. "That was _not_ necessary."

A moment later, Jasper bounded up to them, landing in a low defensive position and searching for the cause of their alarm. "What's going on?"

Edward looked past him, back to the van, where Leah hovered menacingly over Mueller and Tanya had a hold of Stilberg and Becklin. He could hear Emmett charging out of Security Control on his way to them.

"It's her, the one in Alice's vision," he said calmly.

"Swan? She's the human who stood over you in the vision?" Surprise was thick in Jasper's voice. "The one who caused you all that pain?"

"She did, and apparently, she _will_. The image in Alice's vision wasn't clear enough for identification purposes, but we recognized her laugh. It's her."

Jasper's mind raced to incorporate the new information and analyze its implications.

"Okay…let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe Swan was present in the vision, but that doesn't mean she had anything to do with whatever happened. We can't even be certain whether or not that possible future will still come to pass." He turned to his wife. "You haven't been able to see the vision since the first time, right?"

"I've been searching for it, but my sight, it's…well, you know." She shrugged and then sent a warning glance to Edward. "Of course, I'm thankful for the glimpses that I do get. At least we know to be careful around her."

"And we _will_ be careful," Jasper declared. "Even if she's unrelated to potential future events, I'll take every precaution necessary."

Edward stifled a groan.

Ignoring his brother's exasperated sound, Jasper straightened from his defensive position and signaled Tanya and Leah to stand down. When Emmett joined the group, the Security Director assigned him to stay with Edward at a "safe" distance from the van.

"This is completely absurd," Edward muttered, watching Kate emerge from the forest. After accepting a communication headset, Tanya departed at a swift jog to assume her sister's patrolling duties.

"You know Jasper," Emmett replied with a good-natured grin. "He doesn't mess around, especially when it comes to your protection."

From their distant vantage point, they saw Swan step out of her cell onto the stone-paved driveway and slowly examine her surroundings. She looked first at Leah, making an unmistakable sound of disgust. The wolf bared her teeth and snapped them together repeatedly as if daring the girl to come closer. The two exchanged a long, hostile glare until Swan snorted in derision and turned to the vampires.

The hatred she emanated was almost a tangible force. Though her mind remained silent to him, he could easily read her hostility and loathing. She glowered at Jasper, Alice, and Kate in succession and seemed to vibrate with revulsion when Kate closed a cool hand around her bare forearm.

"She feels like every other human," Kate reported to Jasper. "I'm not harmed."

Edward rolled his eyes when Jasper touched the girl, then had Alice and Leah do the same.

"If anything is painful, it's being subjected to this circus. She's a human, not a landmine. " He began to walk toward the group, his strides long and purposeful. "I've had enough."

Emmett caught up to Edward with a leap and then matched strides.

"Oh, this is gonna go over well," he commented sarcastically as Jasper's head whipped around in Edward's direction.

"Unless Carlisle directs otherwise, this is my interrogation, and I'll handle it as I see fit." Edward spoke quietly but with a tone that left no question about his authority in the matter.

Jasper gritted his teeth but said nothing as Edward approached. He knew that arguing was pointless, and it wasn't something he would do outside of a private setting, anyway. His wary gaze flicked back and forth between the Chief Magistrate and Isabella Swan.

When she spotted Edward's tall form closing the distance between them, the young woman stiffened, mouth agape, barely breathing. Her hands were clenched into fists by her side, her eyes narrowed to slits. The animosity she previously expressed seemed negligible compared to the rage that now consumed her body. Its sheer magnitude almost gave Edward pause.

Almost.

He continued toward her, stopping only when less than an arm's length separated them. Steadying himself against the potency of her scent, he studied her features in minute detail.

"You," she hissed, shifting her weight forward onto the balls of her feet as if she wanted to spring at him. "It's _you_."

He had no idea why she held special contempt for him but was intrigued by the mystery. This girl held the answers to so many questions.

"Yes, it is I, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, of the Vampire Populace," he said mildly. "And you are Isabella Marie Swan, United States Federal Bureau of Prisons Register Number 235527. Welcome to—"

Stepping smoothly to the side, he avoided the mouthful of saliva that shot through the space he'd just occupied. "–Cullen Manor. You know, it isn't considered polite to spit on one's hosts," he said, unperturbed. "I think your manners could use some improvement. For instance, did you know it's also not nice to shoot at your friends… _Bella_?"

The surprise on her face at his use of the nickname was so unambiguous that Edward wondered if his ineffective telepathic ability would be such a hindrance after all.

"Don't you remember your conversation with Vice President Parker before you pulled a gun on her? You insisted she call you 'Bella,' as your friends do. I have to wonder if you try to murder all the people you like."

The angry flush of red in her face amplified her scent and aggravated the burn in his throat. Calling on a reserve of willpower, he swallowed the rush of venom and bent forward so that his lips brushed the hair beside her ear.

"If that happens to be the case, _Bella_ ," he murmured, "I'll do my best to ensure you never like me."

-v-v-v-v-v-v-

 _Arms folded in front of her chest, she paced the perimeter of her small, fully enclosed cell. Several strands of hair had slipped from the tie, and they fluttered against her face when she made a sharp ninety-degree turn in each corner._

The girl had been at it for over an hour. Although the video feed that Rosalie watched came through in high definition, Edward couldn't make out the film of sweat he assumed must be on her body. She'd shed her prescribed button-down shirt a while ago, now wearing only a thin white undershirt. The subtle curves of toned arms supported Sergeant Mueller's statement about her gym use.

Rosalie was pleased to have Swan in their custody, but she didn't think much of the inmate as either a human or an assassin. To her, Inmate 235527 signified nothing more than a means to a larger end—one in which Jacob Black faced serious repercussions for the attack against the Chancellor. If the girl could provide additional evidence against the Quileute, there would be a stronger case for his extradition to the United States or, preferably, the Vampire Populace.

For Carlisle and Seth's sakes, Edward also wanted to get his hands on the boy, but he sought justice for the Vice President and the injured Secret Service agents, as well. He wished Isabella Swan was like any other accused individual. The process would be easy, then. He'd put her to sleep if she wasn't already in that state, search her mind for pertinent memories and associated thoughts, and deliver a report to a judicial committee.

After his testimony was reviewed, Swan would have a final appearance before him and the committee for additional questions. There, she'd be granted an opportunity to offer a personal statement. Edward would compose his closing report based on her thoughts during the session, and then the committee would pass judgement. If warranted, a sentence would be issued.

For even the most complex cases, the Chief Magistrate's participation never amounted to more than a handful of hours. The hardship lay solely in the physical and emotional toll brought upon him during interrogation sessions. But this Swan girl…not only did she seem immune to his abilities, there was also a chance she could cause him harm. It was a highly unprecedented situation with highly unfortunate timing.

And because of those circumstances, his strongest ally turned traitor.

"There are more reasons for him not to be here right now than otherwise," Jasper said to Carlisle. "Your security needs are minimal for the next week, so it won't be a problem for Rose and Emmett to accompany him while Alice and I stay here to question Swan."

The Chancellor rested his arms on his antique oak writing table and touched the fingertips of his two hands together. "I do see your point. Edward?"

 _Swan heaved a sigh and finally stopped in front of the small closet recessed in one of the cell walls. After pulling a paperback out of her duffel bag, she trudged to the twin-sized bed and sat down._

Edward had an irrationally strong desire to know the title of the book, but the words on the cover were hidden behind a particularly defiant lock of hair, and then Rosalie was turning away from the screen to pull up the latest NSA security brief…

"Edward?"

Though he was physically located in the Carlisle's private study with the Chancellor and the Security Director—looking straight at them, in fact—Edward's attention had been focused on the inmate two levels below. He pulled his mind back into the meeting and replayed the last few minutes of conversation that only his subconscious had registered.

"Absolutely not," he replied finally. "I think I should spend _more_ time with her if tonight's attempt fails. It's important to discover how she's keeping me out and to see if prolonged exposure makes a difference. We should bring Eleazar in. He might be able to help, as well."

"Yes, but there's no reason you can't look into those options after a few days of vacation," Jasper argued. "It'll give me a chance to research her history further and collect data on her behavior while she's here. That way, you'll have more information on hand when it comes time for a verbal interrogation."

"Don't you think it'd be more useful if I observe her myself instead of relying on a report? I have the same doctorate in Psychology as you, not to mention decades of insight into countless minds." Edward sighed and met his brother's gaze. "Listen, Jasper, I appreciate your concern—I really do—but you can't keep me wrapped in a protective bubble all the time. It's oppressive, counterproductive, and, quite frankly, annoying as fuck."

Jasper stared at him for several moments and then averted his eyes to the floor.

"Yeah…maybe you're right. I'm sorry. I'll try to find a better balance between your security and your personal freedom."

 _But you have to remember_ , Jasper continued in silent remorse, _our family is still suffering from Esme's death. Even the mere thought of losing someone else is…_

"I know," Edward murmured. "But I can't step back from this one. Not now. I promise to be careful, though."

Carlisle looked at his two sons and saw that the matter was settled. "Alright, then. Edward, you'll attempt a standard interrogation session tonight, and if that fails, conduct a verbal interview at your discretion. I haven't heard from Ambassador Black yet, but expect him to visit with Ms. Swan in the next day or two. His influence may encourage her to be more forthcoming."

"I'll start looking for Eleazar," Jasper added. "He was in South Africa at the beginning of the year, but Tanya mentioned something about him wanting to spend the summer in Spain."

"When you get in touch with him, give minimal detail regarding the situation. I'd rather tell him in person about Edward's inability to read Ms. Swan," Carlisle said. "We should keep that information as close as possible. At this point, there is no reason for anyone outside of the family to know."

After Jasper and Edward voiced their agreement, they took their leave of the Chancellor. Jasper headed to Security Control, and Edward returned to his room to see how many items Brady had added to his worklist in the past four hours. He was grateful to discover that his tasks could likely be completed before the pre-interrogation counseling that evening.

But his mind needed only the short delay of his email opening to wander away from the laptop screen and down to the surveillance camera monitoring screens in Security Control. Rosalie thoughts didn't contribute much—her gaze flickered over the numerous streams from cameras located all over the Compound. Jasper, however, was concentrating on the feed from the sole occupied inmate cell.

Still on the bed, the girl had turned onto her stomach. The book she read lay flat on the mattress. Edward felt irritated that the title was obscured yet again. It was such a small, insignificant piece of information, but for some reason, he wanted to storm into her room, snatch the book out of her hands, and satisfy his irksome curiosity.

It did make some sense, he supposed. During his time as a vampire, Edward had become accustomed to knowing exactly what was going through the minds of the people around him. Yes, there had been times when he'd wished to be "normal"—that he could rid himself of the frustration, stress, and physical pain associated with his ability—but he'd never truly considered how he'd feel without it.

Blind.

That's how it was. When it came to Isabella Swan, Edward felt blind.

He didn't like it one bit.

So, it seemed reasonable that he found every detail about her interesting. She was an enigma, a riddle to be solved. Her intense hatred of vampires—particularly him—only served to intrigue him further. Given the vast disparity between her strength and his, Edward found her stubborn defiance to be whimsical, yet brave. Even…admirable, perhaps?

He wondered how, or if, his opinion of her would change should he gain access to her thoughts.

Over an hour passed before Edward realized he'd not gotten a single task on his list completed. With some embarrassment, he pushed the girl out of his mind and set to work. Reports were written, briefings were read, calls were made, documents were signed.

And then it was time for Swan's pre-interrogation counseling.

He deliberately arrived a few minutes late. Rosalie gave him a thoughtful once-over when he stepped in the room reserved for inmate interviews. Edward was known for his punctuality and adherence to rules. Exceptions rarely occurred.

He surprised her further by asking her to step out of the room for the session. She almost argued, but the hard set of his features caused her to think twice.

The girl sat at a small wooden table in a simple chair made of metal, staring blankly ahead. She wore a different set of clothes now—the deep crimson uniform of an inmate in the custody of the Vampire Populace. Her hair was tied back in accordance with regulation.

Edward was thankful for the latter. Since the inmate rooms had a separate ventilation system, he'd been spared the assault of her potent fragrance, but there was no escaping it while in the same room. Loose, flowing hair increased scent diffusion, and he was having a difficult time resisting as it was.

He circled the room several times without saying a word—simply observing and wondering. She didn't look at him, didn't act as if she noticed his presence at all. Her respiration and pulse fell within normal range, and she sat casually as if being in the presence of a powerful vampire didn't bother her in the least.

Edward had witnessed previous occupants of that seat acting in a similar manner, but then, they'd all been sociopaths. Isabella Swan didn't seem to fit the profile, yet he knew so little about her.

Enough games, he decided. It was time for answers.

He sped across the room and slid into the chair on the opposite side of the table, hoping to startle her. But the only reaction he inspired was the blinking of her eyes as a wake of disrupted air breezed over her.

In a quick change of tactics, Edward adopted an equally relaxed posture. He would try to catch this little fly with honey before going after her with a swatter.

"I hope you've found your room acceptable," he began, his tone conversational. "Is there anything you need? I could look into it for you."

Her eyes flicked up to his face, and Edward thought he noticed a flash of wary surprise within the rich brown. Her gaze quickly returned to the table surface, but it was enough that he'd gotten her attention.

"If you think of anything later, let one of us know. We'll do what we can."

She didn't respond, and they sat in silence, Edward watching her and Swan staring at the table. He assumed the completely motionless pose of his kind, not breathing, not blinking, ignoring everything else to focus on her, sight and sound.

The girl tried to keep still, herself, but he could see that she was fighting a losing battle. Her fingers twitched against the material of her pants. Then a leg shifted position under the table. The muscles over her jaw tightened, her shoulders tensed, and nostrils flared. Edward had to suppress a smirk when her heart rate increased.

It turned out to be much easier than he expected. Five minutes after he shed all human idiosyncrasies, Swan's egg cracked.

"Ugh! You… _things_ …are so fucking creepy!" she huffed, standing up with a loud scrape of her chair across the floor. She began to pace back and forth in the small area behind her side of the table. "I don't know why you even bother acting like us when it's so obvious that you're _not_."

Other than following her movement with amber-colored eyes, Edward remained frozen in place.

"You think you're fooling everyone with your polite, refined manners and 'peaceful' government, but we know better. We've defeated your kind for centuries and have seen your true nature. And though _some_ of our people have fallen for your lies, the rest of us will never stop fighting." She scowled and began walking faster.

Edward found so much in her rant worthy of further study, but one point required clarification before all others. He sprung out of his chair and landed directly in the path of Swan's march.

"Ex _cuse_ you," she snapped, pulling herself up short. "If you're trying to intimidate me with all this zipping around, you're wasting your time. I live with a bunch of overgrown wolf-boys who try to scare the shit out of me every chance they get. Sorry, but super speed and strength don't do much to impress me."

Though intimidating Swan was exactly what he'd hoped to accomplish, Edward graced her with a condescending grin.

"Impress you? Your country has charged you with a laundry list of federal crimes, not least of which is the attempted assassination of a beloved vice president. You were handed over to your self-proclaimed _enemy_ for interrogation and involuntary testimony collection. I have you here, in my custody, in this room, where I could snuff out your life with a twitch of my fingers. Inmate 235527, I don't need to _impress_ you at all."

As he spoke, Edward leaned so far forward that the girl had to crane her head up and back to meet his glance. Their faces were mere inches apart, close enough that he could taste her warm, intoxicating breath on his tongue. The swirling scent made him nearly delirious with desire. All he had to do was lower his head just a little more—a simple drop of his chin—and his lips would be _right there_ , on her neck, over her vein…where the blood was pulsing faster than he'd ever heard it…he'd pull her body tight against his so she couldn't escape—but she'd probably struggle…he hoped that she would…

Edward had already straightened upright with a jerk before Jasper and Rosalie's stern mental warnings echoed in his mind. The two were observing the room from Security Control. Jasper had the advantage of feeling Edward's lust, but even without empathic abilities, Rosalie could see his control slipping.

Expending no small effort, he stepped away from Swan and gestured to her seat.

"Before, you said that ' _we've_ defeated your kind for centuries.' I understand you live on the Reservation now, but do you have a Quileute ancestor I'm not aware of?"

The girl scowled at the chair as if sitting in it was an acquiescence she wasn't prepared to give. She settled for standing behind it with her arms crossed.

"Maybe I wasn't born a Quileute, but I'm just as much a member of the tribe as any of the others. Probably more so, because _I_ didn't betray my ancestors by befriending a mortal enemy." She shook her head and lowered her voice to a mutter. "Taha Aki would be ashamed to call them his sons. Traitors, especially Billy…Ephraim's own grandson…a chief…disgraceful…"

"You do realize that it was Ephraim Black who made the original treaty with my family, right?"

Swan shoved the metal chair out of her way and stepped to the table. She slammed her hands down onto its surface.

"Because _you_ tricked him! You got into his head and told him lies and forced him to accept your will so that you could murder without the tribe's interference. And now you're doing it again, but this time to the entire human race! But some of us know the truth, and we're going to stop you. All of us. When it's time, we're going to—"

Her eyes grew wide, and she stared at him in horror, her mouth gaping open.

It took Edward a moment to figure out why she looked so aghast. The girl had no idea that her mind was silent to him. She thought she'd given away important information. She thought she'd exposed a secret plan.

If only that could be true.

Clearing his throat conspicuously, Edward adopted a more formal position in his chair. He leveled an apathetic gaze at her.

"As you have been informed on several occasions, tonight you will be subjected to a mental deposition extraction. Physically, the procedure is painless and occurs while you sleep. I will be in a room adjacent to your cell and will search the stores of your memory for information related to the charges against you. Any evidence I collect is considered sworn testimony and will be used by a judicial committee to pass judgement and determine sentencing, if applicable. If you wish to volunteer a statement now, your cooperation will be noted and may result in a more lenient sentence."

The girl had taken a step back from the table, her shoulders drooping in defeat. She seemed to shrink inward on herself, and once again, Edward noticed how small she was compared to him—slight of stature and delicate, fragile like a baby bird. The thought made him oddly uncomfortable.

"Is there anything you'd like to say?" he asked, his tone more gentle than before.

When she glanced at him, reflections of the overhead lights shone brightly in her watery eyes. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then she clamped her lips and turned her body away from him.

Edward let out a quiet sigh. Though he did want justice to be served, he'd hoped the girl would make an effort to help her case. She was facing the very real possibility of life in prison, and it seemed such a waste. He found it disheartening to picture a vibrant spirit such as hers confined in a cage.

But, she was still an inmate in his custody. He had a duty to discover the truth, and she was no different than any other criminal. He didn't care what happened to her or her spirit after she left Cullen Manor.

Not at all.

Pushing back against a strange sense of lethargy, Edward walked to the door at slower pace than he would normally take. When her breathy "Wait!" rang out, he felt a spark of hope.

"There _is_ something I want to say."

Edward looked over his shoulder and was surprised to discover that the unmistakable expression of venomous hatred distorted her features once again.

"Maybe my time on this planet will end before yours, or…maybe not," she said with a sneer. "Either way, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, I look forward to seeing you in hell."

* * *

 **Zlato – Slovakian term of endearment that translates to "gold." It refers to something precious.**

 **Thank you so much to fyrebyrd89 and PurpleC305 for pre-reading! Eternal thanks to Powered by 23 Kicks for pre-reading, helping me with difficult paragraphs, and listening to me whine. She's a supah-stah!**

 **Last but certainly not least, thank YOU for reading and reviewing! In Your Dreams was voted a July Fic Dive Favorite at A Different Forest. I can't say how grateful I am for the amazing support.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Of Trust and Violation

**Chapter 6 - Of Trust and Violation**

* * *

Seth Clearwater let out a joyous howl that startled his younger friend. Leah had kept him cooped up inside for days to make sure every one of his seven broken bones healed completely, and he'd just about gone stir-crazy. His wild energy couldn't be contained as he raced through the moonlit woods on his first patrol since returning from Forks. Caleb leaped over a small stream and poured on a fresh burst of speed, but Seth's lead only increased.

…

"You're joking," Garrett said with a shake of his head. "That's pretty damned morbid."

Demetri snorted. "No, _that_ was typical Caius. The human teenager jumped through every hoop: brought his family to us, slashed their throats, even licked blood from their wounds. But Caius never had any intention of changing the boy...killed him the next day. It was all for the sake of amusement."

…

Any further work was pointless. Carlisle exhaled a whispered sigh and stood up from his desk. Seemingly of their own volition, his legs propelled him to the large walk-in closet of his bedroom.

The article of clothing was there, hanging on the rack, hidden in the midst of garments that hadn't been worn in years. He remembered every detail about the lustrous jade green robe, but even perfect recall couldn't compare to the feeling of smooth silk in his hands. He traced a finger over the elegant script monogram and bowed his head. His silent sob of grief caught in his throat as he brought the material to his lips and murmured the name of his lost love.

 _Esme_.

…

Out of her peripheral vision, Rosalie saw Jasper wince but didn't divert her attention from the screen in the surveillance room of Security Central. Her priority was the safety of the Chief Magistrate and the legality of the interrogation. She didn't want potential evidence to be thrown out on account of a technicality or other such nonsense.

Rosalie's intense concentration had such a focused edge that Edward found her mind easier to read than usual. Elation, grief, surprise, anger—thoughts colored with these strong emotions stood out like vivid paintings on a gray wall or flashing neon lights in the dark. People with stoic, apathetic mindsets presented something more of a challenge. Some individuals could intentionally muddy their thoughts with drivel, and those few who were most skilled, like Aro, could erect camouflaged shields to hide their innermost secrets. But still, Edward never failed to uncover the barriers and then break through them. Somehow, he'd always been able to tell when he'd gained access to the entirety of one's mind.

That wasn't so with prisoner 235527.

Try as he might, Edward couldn't force his way into her thoughts. He couldn't determine if she even had thoughts. When it came to Isabella Swan, he sensed nothing.

Nothing at all.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, springing up from the bed in one of the Interrogation Rooms. "I've been trying for an hour without any progress."

"She hasn't fallen asleep yet," Alice said quietly. "Her mind may be more vulnerable when unconscious."

He glanced over to where his sister stood against the wall, watching him with a sympathetic look on her face.

"Maybe, but it's one a.m., and she's still reading her damned book." He scowled at the inconvenience of it all. "I'm not going to waste my time waiting around for her to get tired."

"I'm really sorry that I can't see when she'll…oh! Really? You're going to go over there _now_?" Alice's eyes widened in surprise as the vision flashed before her. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Jasper was already waiting in the hall when Edward opened the door.

"Your objection is noted, but I'm not changing my mind," Edward said before the other man could even open his mouth. "Also, Kate isn't coming with me. I don't want anyone else in there."

"Just hold on a minute," Jasper said, blocking the doorway with his body. "There's no reason to do this now. Swan has got to sleep at some point, and then you can try again. If that doesn't work, we can discuss a set of interview questions and plan a sensible approach instead of going in there blindly and—"

"No. I want to know where I stand with this girl before Ambassador Black's visit in nine hours. Call it a gut feeling if you want, but I honestly don't think her being asleep will make a damned bit of difference in my ability to read her." Edward held out his arms in a placating manner. "This isn't going to be a formal interview…I just want to talk with her a little more, okay?"

"Mm-hmm." Jasper's voice was skeptical, but he did step out of Edward's way. "Regardless of Ambassador Black, there's nothing to gain from rushing this. Keep that in your stubborn, made-up mind."

Kate stepped out of Security Central and took up a position beside the door to Swan's cell. "I'll stay out here, but try not to eat her this time, eh?" she said with a smirk.

The tightening of his jaw was his only response.

Edward was going to enter Swan's room without prologue but thought better of the action at the last moment. Moving his hand up from the latch, he rapped heavily on the thick metal of the door.

Through Rosalie's observation of the cell's video feed, he could see the girl's head snap up in surprise. She glared at the door for a moment and then turned back to her book. Edward keyed in his code and stepped inside the room.

The delectable scent accosted him immediately. Doing his best to disregard the burning desire, he strode to a chair in the corner, lowered himself on the seat, and settled into a relaxed pose. The minutes ticked by, but Swan didn't glance his way. Edward was content to wait her out, especially since he knew she wasn't unaffected by his presence. He saw how she fidgeted and heard the huffs of air that she blew out through her nose every time she turned a page. Ten minutes into her act of ignoring him, she snapped her book shut and tossed it onto the bedside table.

He watched as she grabbed a small bag from her locker and took it into the bathroom adjoining her cell. There was no door to separate the two spaces, so Edward averted his gaze as she used the toilet, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Her nightly routine didn't amount to anything noteworthy, but he found himself fascinated by the splashing sounds of water across her face, the rustle of the towel, and the swish-swish of her toothbrush. He'd never paid much attention to the small noises people made as they carried out normal affairs. Now, however, those sounds seemed to echo loudly in his ears. He supposed that other senses were attempting to compensate for his lost ability to read her thoughts.

With her eyes trained on the floor, Swan marched to her bed, climbed under the covers, and turned off the bedside lamp. Other than a faint green glow from photoluminescent strips marking the light switches and door handles, the room was awash in darkness. Edward could see perfectly fine, of course, but for some reason, the atmosphere seemed more intimate than before. Her scent thickened on his tongue, her heartbeat pounded like the thudding of boots on a wooden floor, the cool air from the ventilation system tickled his skin. He felt dizzy, sluggish, and energetic at the same time.

It was very strange.

Edward soon had to fight his own impulse to fidget. After several minutes that seemed to last hours, he was about to concede to her their unspoken contest of wills when Swan let out an angry growl and sat up in bed.

"What the hell do you want now, perv? Can't you be a creeper from another room?" she all but snarled in his direction. "Or are you going to rape my body before you rape my mind?"

Edward sucked in sharp breath. "I would _never_ touch you like that against your will. I couldn't do that to _anyone_."

"What's the difference with all that mind-probing shit you do? It's still a personal violation. I'll bet you get off on looking through people's private thoughts, don't you?"

"First of all, I 'hear' most thoughts the same way you're listening to my voice," he replied as calmly as possible, despite the fact that his hands were clenched into fists. "If something makes a sound, you hear it. If someone has a thought, I hear it. My ability isn't something I can simply shut down, and I promise you that I don't 'get off' on what's in someone else's mind. Quite the opposite, actually." Edward repressed a shudder over some of the sickening scenes he had viewed in criminals' memories.

Swan squinted her eyes in the dark and leaned forward, presumably in an effort to get a better view of his shadowy form. "So what's the deal with the sleeping thing? Why do I need to be knocked out when you rape my brain? Does it hurt if I'm awake or something?"

"Can you not use that word?" he asked, wincing. "It's not like that."

"I think it's _exactly_ like that. What, afraid to call a spade a spade? Just admit it: you're a r—"

"Would you please shut up?" he barked, cutting her off. A sudden wave of calm from Jasper reduced his anger before it could build any further. Edward nodded his head in thanks toward the camera dome in the ceiling, took a deep breath, and continued. "I am not the individual on trial, Ms. Swan. The interrogation process has been sanctioned by the U.S. government, and the information already dispersed is all you will receive at this juncture."

The moment of stillness after he spoke was broken by a burst of laughter. His brow furrowed as he reviewed his words and couldn't find a single thing amusing about them. But the girl obviously did. She was doubled over and clutching at her stomach, her shoulders heaving as she laughed and laughed.

For her all her youth, he expected a higher pitched, lighter sort of tone. Instead, her laugh was full and throaty, a richly pleasing sound. It was expressive, mature, and even…alluring?

Edward blinked, wondering why in the world that particular thought had entered his mind.

"What is it you find so humorous?" he asked. His tone was more gruff than he'd intended.

Swan sucked in lungfuls of air as she worked to calm herself before answering. When her laughing fit finally died down to a series of haphazard chuckles, she swiped a hand across her eyes and straightened up to look at him.

"Whew, thanks! I needed that in the worst way. You're a riot and a half."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his temper beginning to flare.

"You're kidding, right? 'I am not the individual on trial, Ms. Swan,'" she parroted in a deep voice. "'The information already dispersed is all you will receive at this juncture'…Christ, do you even listen to what's coming out of your mouth? You're such a joke!"

"Explain yourself. Please."

"I already told you earlier today," she said, rolling her eyes. "You try to sound all sophisticated and superior with your snooty words and condescending tone, like we're all about to sit down to high tea or something. But the truth is, you're over there fighting the urge to slash open my throat and gorge yourself on blood until there's not a drop left in my veins. Don't even bother denying it—we both know I'm right."

Edward didn't bother. She was, indeed, right.

"We're playing a waiting game with you vamps," Swan continued. "A dangerous, high-stakes waiting game that we never should've gotten into. You can say all the right things, dress up in designer clothes, go to fancy banquets and stuff, but the reality is that you're nothing but a group of serial killers who should be wiped out of existence. Or at the very least, locked up behind some really strong bars. I mean, how many people have _you_ killed?"

"This isn't about me," Edward growled through gritted teeth.

"Actually, it's _all_ about you and the kind of creature you are." Her voice rang out in the darkness, infused with a fiery passion. She scuttled across the bed to lean toward him at the edge of the mattress.

"Can you remember being human? Think about it: would you've been okay with lions roaming through the streets? Even if they're supposed to be 'tame,' the fact is that a single wild urge from them could wipe out one, two, half a dozen people…and lions are nowhere near as dangerous as vampires! But here we are, not only giving you free rein to mix with us, but also putting you in positions of power! We might as well shove bread stuffing up our asses, stretch out on a buffet table, and call it a day. This whole mess is crazy stupid and needs to be fixed!"

"Now you're the one who's got to be joking," Edward said, gaping at the girl in disbelief. "Have you forgotten that _we_ helped _you_? We fought alongside you, we fought _for_ you…some of us _died_ for you!"

"Yeah, right," she said with a snort of derision. "You can't die; you're already dead. And once you've finished burning to ash, your kind finally go to Hell where you should've been all along."

"How dare you!" Edward roared, springing from his seat, his hands reaching for her throat.

 _Edward, stop!_

At the last moment, he diverted his grip and curled his fingers around her upper arms instead. Slamming into her body, he knocked her flat on the bed and pushed her into the mattress. Kate already had her hand on the door latch, so he would have to act quickly. One slash of razor-sharp teeth was all it would take.

Memories surged to the forefront of his consciousness. Dismembered body parts of enemies, friends, and loved ones alike, strewn over fire-stricken battlefields…thick plumes of purple smoke curling upward…screams of agony, the keening cries of those left behind…the faces of the lost: Peter, Alistair, Siobhan, Tia, Benjamin, Irina, Esme...Esme… _Esme_ …

Edward's fury heightened and coursed through his body. How could that insolent human girl dare to suggest a soul as beautiful and loving as Esme's would ever become Hell's kindling? Swan could proclaim her moral high ground until she was blue in the face, but _she_ was the one who attempted to murder the Vice President in cold blood. _She_ was the one calling for genocide and the killing of innocents. _She_ was the one who dismissed the life of a beloved woman, friend, and mother with a scornful laugh.

Rage over her irreverence added fuel to his already smoldering bloodlust. Venom rushed into his mouth. He could practically taste the hot liquid of her veins on his tongue, pouring down his throat. It would be fitting that he dole out the very same brand of justice she had been advocating. He could end her existence with as much callous disregard as she had for his.

It would be so easy.

But when he glowered into her wide, startled eyes, he felt an unexpected pang of compassion. Indecision flashed across his own features and allowed logic to state its case.

 _What the hell was he doing?_

The girl was so young, practically a child. He, on the other hand, had walked the earth over a century and was a single step removed from being the head of state. Not only was he allowing a _criminal_ to affect him emotionally, he was also behaving in the exact animalistic manner she had decried. He'd let his instincts, his predatory nature, that one "wild urge," rule his head.

His wrath died to a simmer as quickly as it had blazed to life. It then occurred to Edward to note the position in which he held the girl. He was on all fours over her, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of her hips, his hands restraining her upper body. Shame replaced the vestiges of his anger. He didn't know how she had managed to provoke such a reaction from him, but the only thing that mattered just then was regaining control over himself.

The entirety of his internal battle was fought and resolved in the split second it took Kate to leap across the room and pull him backward off the bed.

Because Edward had anticipated her action, he was already in motion when she closed her hand over his shoulder. He stood up smoothly and acknowledged Kate's presence with a nod.

"I'm fine, but thank you," he said, glancing up toward the camera. His statement was just as much for Jasper and Rose in Central as it was for Kate.

"Such strong responses you have toward such a young little thing," Kate commented to Edward with an amused grin.

She arched an eyebrow and approached Swan, who had righted herself back into a sitting position. Intently studying the girl's features, Kate reached out and caressed the side of her face, stroking the soft skin with a sensuous touch. She cupped her hand around Swan's jaw and leaned in to brush the tip of her nose across the warm cheek and down her neck.

"Mmm," Kate purred seductively as her lips traced the girl's jugular. "She certainly smells like a healthy young human. Deliciously sweet and appetizing. But...no more so than any other to me."

Edward tried to ignore the accelerating hammer of Swan's heart and the fearful trembling of her body. Kate's provocative gestures and extreme proximity to her made him uncomfortable.

Pushing that niggling feeling to the side, he focused on Kate's thoughts and was surprised by their direction.

"A succubus?" he said, his mind racing to consider the idea. "I suppose that could account for her heightened appeal to Demetri, Jasper, and me, but none of the other males here were affected. Also, the attraction was only for her blood…nothing else."

Kate gave him a significant look as she let her hand slide away from Swan's face. _Nothing else? I'm sorry to hear that. I hoped that maybe…_

"Perhaps we should consider why she didn't cause Emmett, Garrett, and Carlisle to react," Edward said, ignoring her comment. "How are the two groups different?"

"You, Demetri, and I have special abilities," Jasper said in a voice loud enough to be heard from Security Control. "Could that have something to do with it?"

"Interesting that gifted females aren't affected." Kate stepped back from the bed and turned to Edward. "It's a very curious situation, especially considering her other…unique trait."

He frowned at the reminder of Swan's silent mind as watched the girl move up the bed, as far away from the vampires as she could get. She turned on the bedside lamp, grabbed her pillow, and hugged it close as if the fluffy cushion could somehow offer protection, like a shield of sorts.

A shield…could Swan's mind have shield-like qualities?

Edward thought the concept had merit but would wait to discuss it until they were away from the girl. He didn't want to tip his hand, though she would likely begin to figure things out soon enough.

At that moment, he was more interested her demeanor. He found it disconcerting how quickly she went from being spirited and daring to vulnerable and unsure. Her swift mood changes left him confused, frustrated, even angry. Of the limited amount of time he spent with her, the majority of it was spent fighting his urge to snap her neck and drain her dry. But there were times, such as now, when she looked like an innocent, helpless creature that he wanted to rescue and protect.

 _Edward, are you done with your chat?_ _It's going to take some time before she calms enough to fall asleep._

Jasper's point was valid. There was no good reason for Edward to stay in the cell any longer, even though he felt oddly bothered by the thought of leaving.

"I'm going to try one more thing," he announced. "It should only take a minute."

Swan's expression darkened when he placed the chair beside the bed and took a seat. Her wary gaze flickered to Kate and then settled back on Edward.

"What do you want now?" she asked in a low, strained voice.

He mustered up the most encouraging smile he could manage and stretched his arm out to her.

"Would you please give me your hand?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then why waste your breath with the 'please'?" she muttered, thrusting her arm in his general direction.

Edward wanted to both roll his eyes and chuckle at her petulance but kept his expression stoic as he took her hand carefully in his. It was small and delicate, and he worried he might crush it by accident in a moment of forgetfulness.

"Ugh, you're so cold. But I guess that's what happens when someone's _dead_."

When she shuddered and turned her face away with a look of revulsion, he was surprised by the feeling of rejection that prickled in his chest. His kind had suffered extensive derision for their mere existence, especially following their initial emergence into human society, but the prejudice had never affected him quite so personally.

It was yet another instance of this girl disrupting his sense of inner balance. He didn't understand it at all, and he liked it even less.

 _Edward?_

Jasper's concerned query jolted him out of his brooding. Edward willed himself to relax, closed his eyes, and opened his mind.

As he'd told Swan, his ability could not be turned on and off at will. The thoughts of every person within his "hearing" range assaulted him constantly, and there was no device, like ear protection, that could muffle or block those thoughts. Over the years, his brain had mercifully learned to filter out familiar minds. They faded to a buzz in the background of his consciousness unless something caught his attention.

When searching for Swan's thoughts, he first dedicated all his concentration on the use of his telepathic ability. Images, sounds, memories, ideas—they reverberated inside his head as if he were standing in the middle of a symphony orchestra. Because he didn't know the tenor of Swan's mind, Edward began identifying those he easily recognized.

The steady rhythm of Jasper's snare drum. Alice's airy piccolo. The playful trombone of Emmett. Tanya's sultry viola.

Upon categorizing the familiar, he strained to find a different voice, one that was new and strange. And unlike previous attempts, Edward called on his other senses, as well. He focused on the warmth radiating from the body in front of him. He heard the beat of her heart and felt her pulse on his fingertips. He listened to the shallow rush of air through her lungs and noticed the nearly imperceptible movement of his eyelashes as her honeyed breath washed over his face.

Edward's muscles were taut from the effort he expended. Even with their hands joined, he still could not locate the girl's thoughts. A frustrated growl bubbled in his throat, and his grip tightened around her fingers.

The soft, pained whimper she released sounded to him like a fingernail down a chalkboard. His eyes flew open, and he gazed at her in apology after commanding his muscles to relax. She stared back with a wondering expression on her face, her lips parted slightly, her eyes round and unveiled.

The luminous brown drew him into their depths, and for one transcendent moment, Edward felt a connection. The boundaries of her mind shimmered into existence and became visible. But though he could "see" a shape, its opaque sheathing concealed the thoughts within.

He had experience pushing his way into fortified minds. Aro's memories had been heavily protected by barricades that reminded Edward of thick stone walls. Breaking them down had taxed him to the fullest. But the barrier to Swan's mind seemed more like a thin layer of iridescent film—perhaps the undulating surface of a newly-formed bubble. If he could keep the sparkling sphere in his sights, he should have no trouble bursting it open to discover all its secrets.

Staring deeply into her eyes, concentrating all within him to the effort, Edward reached out with his mind and touched hers.

And he burned.

A searing, white-hot pain pierced his head like a spear made of lightning. The agonizing fire raced down his spine and through every part of his body, scorching his nerves and rendering him immobile. He tried to release his grip on Swan's hand and move away, but his fingers refused to comply. He wanted to throw back his head and scream, but his mouth refused to open.

Kate was by his side in an instant. She yanked him away and spun on the girl with a fierce snarl. Edward's pain lessened considerably at disconnection but was by no means gone. The fallen vampire lay in angles on the floor like a discarded marionette, his body still paralyzed from the stinging aftershocks.

Though his stunned mind had difficulty comprehending what had occurred, he was able to grasp most of the aftermath. Every single resident of the Cullen Compound had heard his cry. Those who weren't aware of the situation assumed the worst, as they'd been trained to do, and automatically began carrying out emergency protocol. Jasper left Rosalie in Central to issue a stand-down while he stormed down the short hallway and into Swan's cell.

"Stay here but don't engage," Jasper instructed Kate. "I'm taking him to his room." He swept Edward's limp form into his arms and rushed to the door.

It was soft, even to a vampire's ears, but there was no mistaking the bitter chuckle coming from the girl as the Vice Chancellor was carried away.

-v-v-v-v-v-v

"Billy, it's been far too long. I'm glad you came." Carlisle reached across his desk to shake hands with a dark-haired man in a wheelchair.

"Thank you, Chancellor. It's nice to see you again, as well."

Carlisle tried not to take the use of his formal title personally. He'd long since given up on asking the Quileute to address him by his first name. Although Ambassador William Black had a working relationship with the Cullens, even respected them, he made it clear that he didn't consider them friends.

"Have you had a chance to drop in on the Clearwaters and Caleb yet?" Carlisle asked. "Seth has fully recovered and is back to racing through the woods. He and Edward are quite evenly matched these days."

"I'll stop by and see them before I go. Business ahead of pleasure."

"I'm very sorry for the nature of this business," Carlisle said with a frown. "How is Jacob? I know his wounds were more serious than Embry's."

Billy grunted, the sound a mix of amusement and disappointment. "That kid's got the hardest head of anyone I know. He and his pack are fine, except for their constant grumbling about house arrest." The ambassador sat up straighter and gave Carlisle a significant look. "The Tribal Council will convene on Friday. Chief Ateara and I will only have one vote because of our relationships to Quil and Jake. The rest of the members will have two votes."

"I see. Has Jacob given a statement or discussed his motive with anyone yet?"

"He won't talk to me about it. Apparently, he sees me as a traitor to Quileutes and humans alike." The tightness around Billy's eyes and mouth belied his nonchalant tone. "Chief Ateara got a little out of him but nothing surprising. Jake acted on his hatred of vampires, and as leader of the Vampire Populace, you are one of his prime targets."

"Only one of…?" Carlisle asked with concern. "Who are the others?"

"He didn't mention names, but if I had to guess, I'd say the Vice Chancellor and the seer, Alice, are high on his list."

"I understand his feelings toward Edward because of Paul's death, but why Alice? Is it related to the same…incident?"

"I think so. Jake's spoken out about Paul's innocence more than once. He said that, in the confusion of battle, Paul hadn't been able to tell your family apart from the newborns. When he saw Alice near a human…well, I think Jake blames her for causing Paul to attack." Billy averted his gaze to the floor in shame. "I'm so sorry for Jake's behavior toward you, Chancellor. I knew he was angry and resentful, but I _never_ thought he would order his pack to—"

Carlisle held up a hand. "It's not your fault, Billy. The war was hard on all of us. People can respond to tragedy in many different ways. Jacob lost six of his pack brothers, and we're a natural target for his anger. I do believe his attack, and Isabella Swan's, should not go unpunished, but at the moment, I'm more worried about possible repercussions on race relations. I also want to make sure that their actions were planned independently and not part of a larger movement."

"A larger movement…against you? Why would you think there's such a thing? Unless…oh. You got information during Bella's interrogation, didn't you." Billy slumped back in his wheelchair, weariness appearing to overtake his body.

"Actually, there's something—"

"I've been dreading this day ever since I found out about the attacks on you and the Vice President," the Quileute continued, not appearing to have noticed Carlisle's interjection. "I didn't want to hear confirmation of her guilt. I kept hoping that it was a mistake…that there was some other explanation. Having Jake involved is bad enough, but Bella, too? I've failed Charlie in the worst way."

Carlisle shook his head. "Not to speak badly about Isabella Swan, but she's an adult who makes her own decisions. Chief Swan wouldn't have blamed you any more than I do."

"But you should," Billy said in a defeated voice. "After the Battle of Forks, I got so caught up in the war that I pretty much left her on her own to deal with the death of her father. If nothing else, I should've tracked down Renee right away. But I was busy trying to ally with the other spirit warriors...and then the fighting broke out in the Southeast…and Jacksonville was hit hard…"

"And Renee, and her husband Phil, were never located—presumed casualties of war," Carlisle quietly finished for him. The Chancellor shook his head sadly. "It was a terrible tragedy that she lost her family, but still, that doesn't excuse her choice to make an attempt on another person's life. Nothing that you did or didn't do could have forced her to pull the trigger." Carlisle sighed in sympathy. "I can understand what you're feeling. It seems the war inspired feelings of guilt for many people, myself included. But I think it's important to remember that we did the best we could and then try to move forward from there."

"Yeah?" Billy said with a pained laugh. "How's that working out for you?"

"Not well," Carlisle admitted, "but I think the key word is _try_."

The two men exchanged a knowing glance born of similar pain, and for a few moments, Carlisle felt that Billy viewed him as a person instead of some inhuman creature of death. But then the ambassador squared his shoulders and adopted a neutral expression.

"What did you find out from Bella? Was it an individual hate crime, or did she join some sort of anti-vampire organization?"

Despite the objections of Jasper and Edward, Carlisle had decided to be honest about the failed interrogation. Quileutes were already inclined to distrust vampires, and he didn't want to validate their view by lying.

"We're not sure why Isabella acted as she did. Edward wasn't able to perform an interrogation."

"Wasn't able to?" Billy repeated in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"We don't yet know why, but for some reason, her mind is silent to Edward. He can't view her thoughts, nor can he access her memories."

Billy took less time considering the information than Carlisle anticipated.

"How will this affect her trial? What happens next?" he barked out, not bothering to hide his worry.

"My staff and I are still discussing the situation, and I'd like your input, as well. The Federal Judiciary Committee is expecting a preliminary report this afternoon. I assume they would transport her back to Hazelton Penitentiary and make arrangements for a standard federal trial."

"A process that could take months and would be a public spectacle," Billy muttered. "She's already being torn apart by the media; they're campaigning for a harsh punishment…the best she can hope for is a lenient prison sentence, unless…didn't you say something about...what if there really is a larger movement? What if she gave you information that helped you uncover it? Could she negotiate for a reduced sentence?"

Carlisle hated to put a damper on Billy's sudden spark of hope, but he had to be honest. "I can't give you an answer to that. We don't have a formal role in the sentencing procedures. It doesn't fall under our purview."

"But you must have _some_ influence," Billy insisted, rolling his chair forward so that he could lean over Carlisle's desk. "I'm sure the way you write the summary…the amount of detail you include…or maybe you'd consider…"

"I won't falsify the report, so please don't ask me to," Carlisle said quietly.

"No, no, of course I wouldn't," Billy replied. His words, however, carried an undertone that suggested he wanted to do just that. "But maybe you could add a recommendation or…something?" He rubbed a hand over his face. " _Please_ , Carlisle. Bella's like a daughter to me. I don't know what's going on with her, but I still have to try my best."

"I understand, and I wish that—" Carlisle stopped short and looked toward the door to his office. "Excuse me a moment, Billy. Did you need something, Edward?"

The Vice Chancellor stepped into the room with a nod. "Hello, Ambassador Black. Pardon the interruption, but I have an idea that may benefit us all."

Billy turned toward Edward, his face showing surprise as he registered the man's haggard appearance. Edward gave him a wan smile and lowered himself in a chair.

"It's been a long day already," he said, avoiding the questions about his well-being that were in Billy's eyes and thoughts. "I'll be brief. As the Chancellor mentioned, I'm not able to see into Isabella Swan's mind. She did, however, make a comment suggesting a future group action against vampires. I'd like the opportunity to question her further, to see if we can find out more. That will be difficult to do if she's immediately remanded to U.S. custody."

"What are you suggesting?" Billy asked, his expression immediately wary. "I don't want her harassed or threatened. She's still a U.S. citizen with legal rights."

"Of course. However, it's almost a certainty that she's going to receive a prison sentence and lose many of her personal freedoms. I can offer her an opportunity for more individual liberty and reduced incarceration time." Edward paused. "I want her to serve her sentence here."

Even with enhanced mental capabilities, Carlisle needed a moment before he could respond to the outrageous suggestion.

"That's an… _interesting_ thought, Edward, but I don't see how it could work," he said at last. "We're not equipped with the facilities to house an inmate for an extended period, nor do we have a logistics or procedural system in place to address the specific requirements of a federal prisoner. And that's assuming you could even get the necessary permissions. I imagine that would be next to impossible considering—"

"Alice has seen it."

Carlisle stared at Edward in disbelief. "She's _seen_ this scenario? She's seen that Isabella stays here? What, exactly, did her vision show?"

"Not much—only that Swan had been given a renovated cell and was free to roam the Compound as she pleased. Based on the tree foliage, the time period appeared to be early autumn."

"And that's it?" Carlisle asked. _Is there anything you need to tell me in private?_

Edward gave the slightest shake of his head. "That's it. Alice only saw a few flashes of Swan in her cell and of her walking alone toward the Wolf Den."

"Alice is usually right, but still…" Carlisle took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, Billy, what do you think? As Chief Magistrate, Edward normally handles these matters himself, but given the complexity of the situation, I'll certainly consider your feelings before making a final decision."

Billy deliberated for a minute before answering. "What guarantee do I have that she'll be treated fairly? What about her safety? You and your family have lived with humans for years, but what about the others here? The younger ones and those who've been feeding off animals for only a few years…can they be trusted?"

Carlisle shot a glance at Edward, knowing that of all the residents on the Compound, his eldest son was one of the most dangerous to the girl.

"She won't be harmed by us," Edward promised. His expression was open and sincere. "She'll be welcome to receive calls and visitors, and once her long-term residency is established, we'll set her up with a monitored email account. You can check on her as often as you wish."

"Assuming she'll even talk to me, that is." Billy drew his hand over his face again and then met Carlisle's gaze. "If you can get the deal approved, I think staying here with a reduced sentence is her best option. Can you keep me updated?"

"As much I'm allowed, yes, of course," Carlisle replied. He sat back in his chair with an air of finality. "Well, Billy, unless you have any more concerns at the moment, Edward can escort you to Isabella or the Wolf Den, whichever you'd prefer to visit first."

"Might as well see Bella now," the ambassador said with a sigh. "I'm not sure if she's going to give me the silent treatment or yell. Last time I talked to her over the phone, it was a little of both."

Carlisle chuckled as he stood and came around his desk to shake hands again. "From what I've seen and heard, she's quite a feisty young woman."

"That's one way to put it," Billy replied sardonically.

The trio walked toward the hallway entrance, Edward leading the way. The Vice Chancellor was mid-stride to the door, his arm stretched toward the handle, when he froze in place with a look of intense concentration on his features.

"What is it?" Billy asked in surprise.

Carlisle held up a finger to request patience as Edward focused on whatever had caught his attention. When the younger vampire finally blinked and turned to face them, Carlisle knew he didn't have good news to share.

"I think your visit will have to wait, Ambassador. We have a more serious issue on our hands," Edward said, his voice grim. "There's been an attack…a massacre, actually…in the city of Kumbo, Cameroon. First reports indicate widespread fire and destruction, with at least 3,500 dead, thousands more wounded."

"Vampire attack?" Carlisle asked in an anguished murmur, though he was certain of the answer.

"Two of them," Edward confirmed. "Possibly newborn."

The Chancellor allowed himself a heartsick second of time to mourn the lives lost and those affected. He then straightened to his full height, took a deep breath, and prepared to face the disaster.

"Ambassador Black," he said in a steady voice, "Please follow us to the Situation Room."

-v-v-v-v-v-v-


	7. Chapter 7 - Boundaries

**Chapter 7 - Boundaries**

* * *

Despite her best efforts, Leah Clearwater couldn't stop the fur on the back of her neck from bristling. She had slightly better control over her growl; only the faintest hum rumbled in her throat.

The reaction was rather unexpected. She'd seen extensive footage of the Nso' leader—the _Fon—_ both during the Great War and on the flight across the Atlantic to Cameroon. She'd heard the stories of his prowess in battle and read about his success in uniting a heavily fractured country.

Even before she'd met him, Leah knew that His Royal Highness Adjatay Mbassi was a formidable individual.

But seeing him in the flesh, being near enough to notice the faded silvery scars beneath healing wounds of angry red, feeling the almost tangible force of his imposing presence—she was both awed and wary. Her every instinct demanded she assume a defensive position at a time when goodwill and cooperation were imperative.

The lion stood almost a foot taller than her, but his corded muscles and thick brownish-black mane gave him the appearance of looming much larger. Regal eyes carefully surveyed their small contingent; a slowly twitching nose drew in just as much information from the scents in the dry air. His tail curved out gracefully from his heavy body, the tufted end held high like a regimental guidon.

On either side of him waited a tensely-poised leopard that was nowhere near the size and stature of their leader. To Leah's chagrin, however, both spotted cats still had several inches and at least a hundred pounds on her—just like most of her wolf brothers. Being the slightest of her kind and the only female did nothing for her confidence, though she did take consolation in being the fastest. She wondered if she could outrun Fon Mbassi's leopard guards.

Though there would be no time for frivolous races during their visit, of course. Vice Chancellor Cullen and Ambassador Black—accompanied by their security force consisting of Jasper, Kate, Garrett, and herself—had traveled to Kumbo to investigate the vampire attack and discuss relief efforts with town leaders. It was a somber and difficult affair to undertake in the midst of such ruin.

Leah had seen her share of destruction during the Great War, yet the horror of its reality struck her just as hard every time. Kumbo proved to be no exception. On the way to the village's outer border, she'd tried to keep her eyes focused on her two charges, the Vice Chancellor and the Ambassador, but it was impossible to ignore the wooden fences reflecting their splintered lines in the moonlight and the scattered rubble of small mud huts that had once served as homes for the Nso' people. Some of the collapsed roofs made of thatch still smoldered and contributed to the hazy cloud of smoke and dust over the town.

Not even the Fon's own palace had escaped damage. The status briefing she'd received on the flight over was short on details, but it did state that the renegade vampires' two-hour-long rampage had finally ended there. Nso' spirit warriors, including Fon Mbassi, surrounded them in one of the palace's small courtyards. Three leopard guards perished in the fight, leaving a total of only four spirit warriors to protect their people, the Banso, against further attack.

Leah wondered if more Banso would begin changing after their exposure to vampires, like members of her own tribe had done. The Banso numbered about 100,000, and yet with less than 1,500 remaining Quilleutes, eleven of her fellow tribe members possessed the ability to transform.

Vice Chancellor Cullen glanced her way and shook his head almost imperceptibly. She realized he must have heard her errant thoughts and decided to respond in the midst of his conversation with one of the Fon's advisors. She'd have to ask later why the Banso had so few spirit warriors amongst their large population.

Or why her people had so many.

The initial presentation of their convoy to Fon Mbassi did not last long. The advisor, a stout middle-aged man named Ndedi Kiessou, ended his discussion with the Vice Chancellor with a forceful shake of his head and then moved to stand in front of the Ambassador's motorized wheelchair. Edward suppressed a very human sigh of frustration as the Nso' man spoke the words he'd been given by his leader.

"We understand your desire for more information, but our Fon will not allow _his_ kind to walk among our people," Kiessou snarled, giving Edward a sideways glare. "We must rid our village of dark forces, not invite them in."

"The Cullens are not responsible for the attack, and they have nothing to do with the ones who are," Billy replied calmly. "We are here to help."

Kiessou stood firm. " _You_ may survey the damage and render aid. Fon Mbassi welcomes our exalted spirit brothers and their kin. You are invited to lodge at the palace for as long as you wish. But any _viyoy ve bi ví,_ any _Evil_ _Souls_ , that cross onto our lands will be hunted and destroyed on sight."

Jasper tensed in his position to Edward's right, but a twitch of the Vice Chancellor's fingers kept him from taking any action. His gaze darted between Kiessou and the massive lion who stood tall between his guards, watching the proceedings with an impassive expression on his feline features.

But although Fon Mbassi projected a calm and confident demeanor, Jasper sensed that the man's true feelings were very different. Grief, anger, guilt, fear—those emotions swirled in the Fon's mind and threatened to choke out rationality. Had Jasper not been confident in the Vice Chancellor's ability to determine Fon Mbassi's mental state on his own, he would have insisted on putting himself at the front of his delegation. If the level of tension in the Nso' group increased any more, he'd do just that—no matter his brother's wishes on the matter.

While Billy could not read thoughts or emotions, he also seemed to fully understand the delicate nature of the situation.

"Your Highness," Billy said, careful not to meet the leader's eyes directly as per custom, "We would be honored to accept your gracious offer of accommodation. I do ask, however, that you allow us to share any relevant information with our Vampire Populace counterparts. The reason for this attack _must_ be discovered. As you know, the creation of new Vampires is prohibited, and if the two responsible for this atrocity were newborns as you suggest—"

Jasper leaped forward as a deafening roar drowned out the Ambassador's words. Behind him, Kate, Garrett, and Leah all sank down into low crouches, ready to spring on his command. The Nso' guards coiled their muscles as well.

"Wait," Edward murmured to his security detail, placing a restraining hand on Jasper's shoulder. He didn't have time to explain his reasoning and hoped the subtle gesture would be enough to prevent an altercation. If Jasper held steady, Kate and Garrett would follow suit. Edward's main concern was Leah's sometimes volatile nature.

During the Great War, the lithe gray wolf fought in several battles alongside fellow spirit warriors, but her counterparts had been fellow Native North Americans who shifted to their spirit animals in a similar manner as Quilletes. She'd never given much thought to the transformation process of other ethnic groups and thus didn't understand what was happening when Fon Mbassi's substantial feline body seemed to suddenly lose cohesion and cascade down upon itself like a collapsing sand sculpture. Instead of a mound of granulated particles, however, a dense black cloud rolled and roiled above the spot where the lion had previously stood.

As a pack Alpha, everything within Leah's being called out to strike, to protect her group from any threat. It didn't matter that four of them were vampires, a race she once despised, or that those vampire were more than capable of defending themselves. The moment she had assumed the mantle of leadership, something within her changed. Her sphere of responsibility expanded beyond herself, and she understood that the needs of her pack took precedence over her own. And though the residents of Cullen Manor weren't actually members of her pack, she viewed them as a sort of extended family—one for which she would willingly sacrifice her life.

So it was with great effort that Leah restrained herself from taking action, though what she could do to fight a bubbling ball of fog, she had no idea. With her body shaking and bent so low that the hairs on her underside tickled the ground, she watched as the dark cloud expanded upward into the shape of a tall, muscular man.

As soon as Fon Mbassi's transformation was complete, he began shouting at Ambassador Black in thickly accented English.

"What do you mean: if the Cursed Souls were newborns _as I suggest_?" he raged. "My people have fought against such evil for hundreds of years; we are familiar with their ways of existence." The Fon glowered at Edward, whose steady gaze never wavered. "I saw your kind tear down villages and kill men, women…even babies! You infected our children with your _səm arim_ and made them eat their kin. I saw their bodies wake up with blood eyes and cold skin and mind sickness. Oh yes, I know very well what a 'newborn' is like! I swear on the peace of my ancestors that the two Evil Souls who killed my people were newborns."

Edward nodded to show acceptance of the Fon's account, though its legitimacy had never come in question as far as he was concerned. He'd already seen the thoughts of all four Banso and did indeed agree with Fon Mbassi's assessment of the vampires' newborn status. Considering their gross overexertion of strength and the peculiar bright crimson shade of their eyes, he judged the newborns to be less than a month old—still emotional, unpredictable, and insatiably hungry.

There were numerous questions about the attack that needed answering, and one of the foremost on Edward's mind concerned the identity of the newborns' sire. Billy had been attempting to address this when Fon Mbassi transformed. He was determined to try again.

"It is important that their creator is brought to justice, as I'm sure you'll agree, sir," the ambassador said. "Do you have any information that can help us determine the culprit?"

"Each one of them is capable of such evil things," the Fon snarled. "We should exterminate them all."

Both Kate and Garrett hissed quietly behind Edward, who was doing his best to swallow back his own sigh of frustrated annoyance. Jasper recently claimed that public opinion was swaying in their favor, and yet within the span of three days, he'd stood face to face with two different people calling for the genocide of his race. On some level, he could understand; he'd once labelled himself a monster and rejected his kind as a terrible accident of nature, a scourge that only brought death and destruction. His own journey toward a different perspective had been arduous, so he couldn't realistically expect a global change to occur with any less difficulty.

Still, it wasn't a pleasant feeling to know there were many who wanted him dead.

In the interests of avoiding the escalation of tension, Billy chose not to address the Nso' leader's hateful remarks. He took a deep breath to rein in his temper and spoke calmly.

"We _must_ find out how the newborns came into being and stop any further tragedies from happening. A technique has been developed to identify individual vampires and possibly determine their…parentage, if you will. This can be done with small samples. If we…if _someone_ …could search the village, especially the palace courtyard, to look for any remains that may have survived the fires, we might be one large step closer to an answer."

Fon Mbassi did not reply, but Edward inhaled sharply at the nature of the man's thoughts. The spirit warrior glared, his glittering black eyes daring Edward to share the revelation with the rest of his contingency. But the Vice Chancellor remained stalwartly silent, refusing to take Fon Mbassi's dangled bait. For several minutes, their gazes remained locked in a tacit battle of wills, an imperative test of conviction and understanding.

A humorless chuckle broke the spell. Fon Mbassi's head twitched downward in a barely noticeable acknowledgement of Edward's determination.

"We have already cleansed our lands of all traces of the newborns and our cursed dead," he announced in a strident voice. "I can assure you that no 'samples' remain to be found." The Nso' Fon held out a large, calloused hand to Kiessou. "No samples…except for this one."

The portly advisor reached into a pouch on his belt and retrieved a small gray chunk of what appeared to be mortar, or perhaps concrete. All of Edward's companions, save Billy, took deep breaths through their noses, trying to pull in the possible scent of vampires. Edward knew their efforts would likely be futile and waited with studied patience for Fon Mbassi to continue.

"Entombed within this stone is a fragment of a Cursed Soul," Kiessou said, his words spoken in a low, chanting murmur. He raised the piece high above his head and then stretched his hands out toward the Nso' leader. "We ask our Father in Heaven, the Juju spirits of the Banso, and the sacred community of our ancestors to gather the forces of Evil that have touched our lives and purge it from the land of the living, even as we return the body of Evil to its people and banish it from our sights."

Fon Mbassi placed his hand over the item and tightened his fingers as if he meant to crush it to dust. His head dropped to his chest as his mouth moved in soundless prayer. After a moment, he withdrew his touch with a heavy sigh. Kiessou walked to Edward, placed the fragment at his feet, and then backed away in a crouch, his eyes never leaving the small gray object.

"And now, with the stone in your possession, you have no reason to be here," Fon Mbassi said with a sneer. "I expect you to be far from our borders by daybreak. If you stay, we will not hesitate to destroy you just as we did your two brethren."

Edward heard Billy's mental indignation and cleared his throat sharply before the Ambassador had a chance to protest. Despite the insults, threats, and overall offensive behavior, Fon Mbassi _had_ turned over the fragment, which would hopefully prove crucial in unraveling the mystery of the newborns' existence. Little good could come out of the further escalation of tension, no matter how much Edward appreciated Billy's to speak up for them. It would be best for everyone involved if the members of the Vampire Populace did as the Fon wished.

With all the gravity that over a century of existence afforded him, Edward dipped his head to signal both his thanks and his farewell. And because the Vice Chancellor wasn't completely without ego, he turned his back on the Nso' leader and walked away without another word.

* * *

 **There is a second part to this chapter, but just before posting, I went crazy on it with the proverbial red pen. Since I'd mentioned on FB I'd be updating, I don't want to delay any longer! The second part is mostly finished, and I'm crossing my fingers to post before the week is out.**

 **I've done a good deal of research on the Nso' people of Cameroon, but even so, detailed information was hard to come by. Their culture, while embracing Christian and/or Muslim ideas, is heavily steeped in mysticism and belief in witchcraft. Unlike the Quileute people (whose real stories tell of descending from wolves but not transforming into them—that was SM's twist), the Nso' relate tales of how their Fons are able to transform into lions who protect the people during the night. The Fons' closest advisors were said to transform to leopards. I've tried to stay as true as possible to a realistic depiction of their beliefs within my fictional setting and apologize for any mischaracterizations on my part.**

 **Thanks so much for sticking with this story! It's the most complex plot/narrative I've attempted so far and is much more difficult to write than my other WIPs when RL gets busy.**

 **Love and happy holidays to you all! :D**


	8. Chapter 8 - Caged Bird

**Chapter 8 - Caged Bird**

* * *

"I've landed in Madrid, but he's somewhere to the southwest. Several hundred kilometers, at least."

"Hmm." Carlisle recalled a mental map of Spain and considered the possibilities. "He owns a large _finca_ outside of Seville but had mentioned wanting to purchase an oceanfront property. It will be interesting to see where you find him."

Demetri's chuckle was low but still audible over the phone connection. "How many estates does one undead man need?"

"Eleazar is in mourning over the loss of Carmen. I don't see anything wrong with harmless distraction on his part," Carlisle said, more sharply than he'd intended.

"Damn, Carlisle, I'm sorry," Demetri quickly apologized. "That was really insensitive of me, especially considering, well…your own loss." He paused for a moment. "I've heard only great things about Esme. I wish I'd gotten a chance to meet her."

Carlisle closed his eyes and struggled against the surge of grief threatening to overwhelm him. "She was a wonderful person," he replied quietly. "And as someone who knows what it's like to lose a mate, I urge you to be considerate when you locate him. If he doesn't wish to help us, we'll make do without him."

After speaking with Demetri for a few minutes longer, Carlisle ended the call and then stood up from his desk. He had several more phone calls to make, but none were so urgent that they couldn't be delayed. His current mental state would probably render them unproductive, anyway.

He needed to take a break.

A touch on his office phone's screen connected him to Rosalie in Security Control. "I'm going for a run in the woods," he said without greeting. "And I'll be going _alone._ Have Caleb stay on the perimeter until I return."

"But—"

"No more than an hour."

"But—"

He signaled the end of their one-way conversation by closing the connection and walking out the door.

Rosalie didn't intercept him as he left the Manor, but he hadn't expected that she would. When Carlisle Cullen made up his mind to do something, very little would stop him.

The moment the leafy shade of the woods swallowed up his shadow, Carlisle took off as though fired from a gun. Intentionally choosing the most dense areas through which to run, he challenged himself to disturb as little of the habitat as possible. All of his concentration was required to dodge branches, leap over brush, and slide between swaths of tangled vines. On several occasions, he had to twist his body at the last moment to avoid stepping on snakes hidden under fallen leaves or colliding with squirrels that launched themselves from tree to tree out of fright.

For an immortal creature, a period as short as four years usually came and went in the blink of an eye. But to Carlisle, every second that had passed since Esme died felt like a fresh cut over an festering wound. There was never a moment when he didn't relive their fateful separation in at least some small portion of his expansive mind.

 _The final showdown in the throne room at Volterra Palace. Caius, stubborn and proud, refusing to surrender, with only his inner guard left of what was once a large and destructive army._

 _Zafrina blinding Caius and his guards. Alec countering with his own gift of sensory deprivation. Demetri relying on powerful tracking abilities to locate and injure Alec just as Afton is somehow able to engage Zafrina in battle. All senses restored. Jasper helping Demetri, Tanya going to the aid of Zafrina. Rosalie, Alice, Garrett, and Kate swarming and destroying Jane. Emmett fighting with Felix. Esme facing Heidi. Carlisle, with Edward at his side, intent on capturing Caius._

 _A shout of surprise. Felix hurling Emmett into Esme. Heidi lunging toward Emmett's throat before he can recover._

 _Esme throwing herself in Heidi's way to save her son._

 _Heidi grabbing onto caramel locks of hair as Felix brandishes a flame._

 _Esme's final gasp._

 _Carlisle's heart-rending cry of anguish._

A cry that would echo in his mind for as long as he existed.

Carlisle ran and ran, never slowing, never pausing, until he burst out of the forest at the same place he'd entered.

A full circle.

He glanced down at his once-immaculate clothing, now dirty and wrinkled and torn. Despite his best efforts, despite the care he'd taken to avoid this exact outcome, the forest had been too thick and snarled.

With a soul-weary sigh, Carlisle raked a hand through his disheveled hair and shook out the various leaves and twigs caught in the strands. He hardly looked the part of a distinguished head of state. Leaving his office was a foolish misstep; he should have known better. One couldn't challenge such a formidable opponent as nature and expect to win—or even survive unscathed.

As he began his walk of disgrace back to the Manor, he spotted a pile of neatly folded clothes on the ground beside a large oak tree.

Alice.

A sudden smile warmed his face and his shattered stone heart.

There had been many times over the past four years when Carlisle wondered if Marcus's past was to be his future. Centuries of tormented existence, unable to end the pain and longing, the only relief coming in the form of woolen numbness.

But he was _not_ Marcus, and his life was so much different than his old friend's. He had a full, loving family who would keep him from drifting too far asea. They would buoy him up when the burden of loss threatened to pull him under.

They made his endless time on earth something to be cherished instead of merely survived.

With a much lightened countenance, Carlisle changed into a crisply pressed set of slacks and shirt. He retightened his favorite dark blue tie around his neck—Esme had given it to him—headed toward the manor.

Though Rosalie could see his return through the feed of one of the many surveillance cameras around the Compound, he decided to check in with her personally—and apologize for his earlier rude behavior.

She never gave him the chance.

The moment he stepped inside Security Control, she was there, wrapping her arms around him in a tender yet firm embrace. Carlisle let out a long breath of air and allowed his daughter to comfort him like no other could. Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and squeezed her in return.

Just as Rosalie knew when to move in close, she also stepped away at the right time and shifted easily into her position as Chief of his personal security.

"All quiet on the western front," she quipped, returning to her workstation in front of the large LED screens. "Caleb is out on patrol. Angela, Brady, and Alice are in the Manor. And Emmett, well…he's at the Wolf Den. Apparently, Seth is teaching him how to cook."

"Cook?" Carlisle asked, both surprise and humor in his voice.

Rosalie's nose wrinkled ever so slightly. "Emmett and Alice have taken it upon themselves to be the 'Human Hospitality' committee for the girl. Alice has been holed up her room since last evening, and I have a strong feeling we'll be receiving several packages over the next week or so. Emmett put himself in charge of food quality."

"Is he planning on sampling all his creations?" Carlisle asked with an uncontained grin.

"I don't know, but I'd like to see it if he does." Rosalie shuddered. "I hope the girl has a strong stomach."

Carlisle focused on the two video feeds of Isabella Swan. She was reading a book while stretched out over the cell's twin-sized bed.

"Speaking of human frailties, I should expand my medical supply inventory," he murmured, mostly to himself. "She should also be given a complete physical exam as soon as possible."

Rosalie nodded, pulling up a new window on one of her computers. "Jasper and I have gone over the medical records transferred with her from Hazelton, but you're right. We need to do one ourselves."

"I can perform most of it now. The gynecological portions will have to wait until we get a few more supplies, but—"

"Really, Chancellor? _You're_ going to examine the girl?" Rosalie snorted. "Well isn't she a lucky thing. Not many people can say they had their temperature taken by royalty."

"Oh, please. I'm hardly that." Carlisle rolled his eyes as if the unmannerly gesture somehow proved his point. Then he touched his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose it's a valid concern, though. I also suppose you're going to nominate yourself for the task."

"It makes the most sense, what with our next most-qualified candidate being a prince and all," she replied with a shrug. "Jasper could do it tomorrow when he gets back, but given his heightened attraction to her blood…"

"No, no, you're obviously the best choice. I would like to be present, however. It's not that I doubt your abilities, of course, but in terms of practical knowledge, well…it's just that I have quite a bit more hands-on experience, and—"

"Yeah, I get it," she said, chuckling at Carlisle's discomfort in tooting his own horn. "How about doing the exam this evening? I'll touch base with Angela and have her put it on your schedule." She smirked. "Plus, I'll need time to dig out my old Human Anatomy 101 notes."

Carlisle squeezed her shoulder fondly while shaking his head. "I'm beginning to feel sorry for Ms. Swan. Emmett's cooking, your poking and prodding…"

"Eh, she's a federal prisoner who tried to put a bullet through the Vice President. Being a vampire's guinea pig is a mild punishment compared to what she deserves."

Sobering at the comment, Carlisle turned his full attention back to the video feed. "I really don't want my first meeting with her—in her new capacity, that is—to happen during the exam. I'd like to speak with her before then." He glanced at a frowning Rosalie. "Is there a reason why now is a bad time? A _valid_ reason?"

"I guess not," she muttered. "But I'm going in with you. Let me get Alice down here to—"

"I'm on it," declared a voice from the other side of the opening door. Alice breezed into room and smoothly bumped Rosalie out of her chair. "I actually saw this one coming a few days ago, and though I have no idea how the conversation's going to go, I'm as certain as I can be that she doesn't pose a danger."

Carlisle could practically see Rosalie's mind whirring as she ran through numerous possible scenarios, including their inherent risks and outcomes. He walked to room's exit and waited for her at the door.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promised as she all but stomped past him toward Prisoner 235527's cell.

Her disdain clearly on display, Rosalie banged on the door to alert Swan of their presence and then yanked on the handle. She managed to restrain herself long enough to let Carlisle enter first.

The petite young woman lying on her bed glanced at them over the top of her paperback book. Upon seeing the Chancellor, she began to clamber into a sitting position but froze halfway through the movement. A scowl spread over her features, as if she'd automatically reacted to his position of authority before remembering that she didn't want to grant him that kind of respect.

Carlisle watched her flop back down onto the mattress and flip over to her stomach so that she faced away from him. He heard Rosalie's low growl and had to put up a hand before she leaped to Swan's side and yanked the girl to her feet. The rude behavior didn't bother him quite as much as it did Rosalie. If anything, he regretted the loss of the sweet innocence Swan seemed to possess when he interacted with her over six years ago, in Forks.

Their first meeting occurred when she came to the community hospital's emergency room because of a broken leg suffered from a slip on ice. Speaking only a few quiet words throughout the entirety of her visit, Isabella Swan projected the image of a shy but thoughtful girl who was just beginning to emerge from that awkward teenage phase of life. Carlisle recalled thinking that she'd likely grow into a lovely and confident woman.

He'd seen a hint of that developing maturity the second time he treated her. It was her eighteenth birthday, and when a few of her Quileute friends—including the now-infamous Jacob Black—attempted to surprise her, she had stumbled backward into a glass table. The table shattered, resulting in a gash in her upper arm that required suturing. While working to close the wound, Carlisle had noticed that Isabella seemed to be studying him curiously, as though she realized something was amiss. When he tried to draw her into conversation, hopefully to distract her, she sidestepped his attempts with dogged determination.

 _"I'm glad your leg healed well. Have you experienced any residual discomfort from the injury?"_

 _"No, it's fine…can I ask you a question, Dr. Cullen?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Your eyes—they're, um…an interesting color."_

 _The loss of rhythm in Carlisle's suturing was so brief that only another vampire would have noticed. Rather than point out the fact that she hadn't actually posed a question, he glossed over the issue._

 _"Yes, they are. How is your senior year coming along? Do you have any thoughts on furthering your education?"_

 _"I'll probably go to a state school, either here or in Florida. Um, Alice and Jasper…their eyes are interesting, too."_

 _Choosing not to respond, he finished tying off the final suture more quickly than he probably should have._

 _"Well, Isabella," he said, covering her wound lightly with a gauze bandage. "I'm sorry that you had to come here on your birthday, but I hope you'll be able to enjoy the rest of your evening. Nurse Davis will talk you shortly about your discharge instructions. Please give my regards to your father."_

 _As if expecting his deflection, she nodded and offered a bashful smile. "Sure thing, Dr. Cullen. Thanks for taking care of me."_

For a brief time afterward, Carlisle considered having Edward come down from Alaska to gauge her interest and potential threat level. Jasper, however, allayed his fears after sampling her emotions for a week. Isabella did pay slightly more attention to Alice and Jasper at school than the rest of the students, but she didn't seem to harbor anything stronger than mild curiosity.

Carlisle briefly wondered if the present situation would be any different had Edward visited Forks before the newborn threat, if he had sought out contact with Isabella Swan. His abilities hadn't yet been changed—would her mind still have been silent to him? Would she have hated him after the Great War despite a prior meeting?

Previous positive interaction certainly seemed to have no effect on her feelings toward Carlisle. The glare she'd leveled at him before turning away was rife with hostility and accusation.

Undeterred, he took a seat in a chair located about five feet from her bedside. While she didn't look at him, Carlisle had the feeling the book in her hands was only acting as a prop at the moment.

"Hello, Isabella," he said quietly. "I hope you're doing well today."

She remained silent, but he didn't expect otherwise.

"I've come by to say hello and welcome you to Cullen Manor. Of course, I do wish the circumstances surrounding your stay were different. This is something of a learning situation for us, and your patience would be appreciated as we work out the logistics of your residency. There's a good chance you'll be here for some time, so it's in both of our best interests to develop a mutually respectful relationship."

Swan's head jerked up in surprise. "What the hell are you talking about? I've already been here way too long. I'm supposed to go back to Hazelton."

Rosalie took a threatening step toward the bed at the girl's rude tone. Carlisle cleared his throat meaningfully to keep her at bay.

"That may change. Yours is a… _unique_ case. We're currently discussing options with the Judicial Committee and will be contacting your attorney soon. One of the highly likely scenarios is that you serve your sentence at Cullen Manor."

" _What?_ " she screeched, sitting up quickly. "There's no way in hell I'm going to stay with you _leeches_. Get me a phone! I wanna talk to my lawyer right this fucking second!"

Nothing would stop Rosalie this time. She lunged at the girl and shoved her against the bed's headboard.

"Watch yourself, 255627. Speak like that to the Chancellor again, and I will make your life miserable here, no matter how long you stay."

Carlisle's neutral expression remained unchanged throughout Swan's outburst, but he did allow a severe edge to seep into his voice. "While we will try to accommodate your needs and wishes as much as possible, do _not_ mistake decency for leniency. You made an attempt on the life of Vice President—a friend of mine, by the way—while _your_ friends attacked me. You are in pre-trial confinement for a very serious crime, not on a vacation. And quite frankly, Miss Swan, you have such a terrible attitude that I'm inclined to let my security chief give you a lesson in manners." He took a breath and shook his head sadly. "Knowing Charlie as I did, I'm certain he'd be very disappointed in you right now."

Swan's eyes grew wide, and for a moment, Carlisle could see a glimpse of that seemingly conscientious and sweet girl he'd met six years ago. But all too soon, her features hardened, and he found himself on the receiving end of her most scathing glare yet.

"You don't know _anything_ ," she spit out, turning to lie on her stomach again. She picked up her book and made a deliberate show of ignoring him.

Carlisle had to physically take hold of Rosalie's arm to keep her from roughing up the girl again.

"I would have a better idea if you talk to me," he said quietly to Swan. "You've suffered great loss in both your family and your community, but the ones who committed those terrible crimes are gone. Your anger is understandable, but it's grossly misdirected." He leaned forward and spoke with an earnest voice. "It's not too late, Isabella. It's not too late for many things. You _will_ be punished for your attack, but cooperation will go a long way toward a reduced sentence. And if—when—you are assigned to serve your term here, take the opportunity to learn about us. Keep an open mind, make observations, talk to us…I think you'll find we're not the monsters you believe us to be."

He paused to let her consider his words. Swan didn't appear to be paying attention to him, but the stiff set of her shoulders suggested otherwise. Carlisle glanced at the paperback gripped tightly between her fingers.

He was rather surprised when he noted the title.

A wealth of sarcastic gibes sprang to the tip of his tongue, but he kept his dry amusement to himself. He did, however, make a few implicative remarks regarding her literary selection.

"I've never met Maya Angelou," he said, standing up and walking to the door, "but I remember the racism that was rampant during the years of her youth…and before them…and after. In fact, I've seen prejudice of many forms during my 370 years, and the constricting weight of its hate and oppression can indeed feel like a cage. It is truly a shame that such destructive negativity still exists in the world today."

The room was quiet except for the steady beat of the girl's heart and the hum of the ventilation. Carlisle sighed, wondering if anything he'd said had an impact on her or if his visit had been mostly a waste of time. He moved aside to let Rosalie work the door's keypad.

The whispered question reached him just as he was about to step into the hallway.

"Is he okay?"

Carlisle stopped but didn't turn to look at the girl.

"He?"

She huffed in annoyance as if an explanation shouldn't have been necessary.

"The mind rap—, er, _reader…_ you know, the growly one with crazy hair and self-control problems."

"Edward?" Carlisle asked, surprised at the unexpected query. He glanced at her over his shoulder; she was still lying on her stomach, staring blankly at her copy of _I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_.

"Yeah, that one," she muttered. "Last I saw, he was being carried outta here. No one mentioned him yesterday, so…"

"The Vice Chancellor is fine. He's currently out of the area on government business but is scheduled to return tomorrow morning." Carlisle paused. "If you'd like to speak with him sooner than that, I can arrange a telephone or video conference…"

"What? No!" she sputtered. "I'm fine never talking to that psycho again. Christ, he nearly freakin' _ate_ me last time he was in here. No, I just wanted to know if he was hurt or dead or whatever so I wouldn't have to deal with him again. That's all."

"I see," Carlisle said, his voice cold. "Well, I'm happy to report that's not the case. You _will_ be meeting with him again. Soon, as a matter of fact."

Jaw clenched, he strode out of the room, leaving Rosalie to close the cell's heavy door.

Edward had more self-control than almost anyone he knew, Carlisle thought as he headed to his office. His son didn't have "problems" controlling himself at all.

No, the _problem_ was Isabella Swan. In addition to being thoroughly annoying and hell-bent on the destruction of his race, she confounded Edward's abilities and apparently could injure him with her mind. On top of that, her blood held special appeal to gifted male vampires.

She was a problem, all right—a confusing, complicated, and potentially dangerous one.

And Carlisle had no idea what to do about it.


End file.
